An Unexpected Journey
by jeanmarie3
Summary: This is going to be a very AU story, starting from the Falcon's escape of the space slug (ESB). What if Han and Leia decided on a different sanctuary, instead of Bespin? Beg. Chapters will be mostly fluff, setting up for some darker issues in later chapters, taking their relationship on a sometimes angsty, less than perfect path...Chap 13 is posted; reviews make my day
1. Chapter 1

This is going to be a very AU story, starting from the Falcon's escape of the space slug (Empires Strikes Back)….What if Han and Leia decided on a different sanctuary, instead of Bespin? Beginning chapters will be mostly fluff, setting up for some darker issues (hope readers won't get too offended), in later chapters…taking their story down a slightly angsty, less than perfect path…

The captain of the Millenium Falcon ghosted his fingers slowly over the myriad buttons, switches, and levers on the nearest control panel of his beloved ship. Double checking the coordinates, everything set as the ailing freighter limped towards its destination, Corellia.

With the harrowing escape from the space slug's innards fresh in his mind, and the Imperials who had been in hot pursuit long gone now, chasing shadows, Han hoped his homeworld would serve as the safe sanctuary they desperately needed.

Turning in the well-worn pilot's chair and leaning back slightly, getting another read on the deflector shields, Han suddenly winced, growling a few choice Corellian curses aloud at the pain radiating from the side of his torso and back.

The shards of ice that had pummeled his body while escaping Hoth reminding him, again, of the damage they had done, but not nearly as bad as the twisted alloy beams that had punctured his side. "She's worth it…" his hissed aloud without any hesitation, recalling how he had shielded the Princess from the avalanche of ice and rusted metal.

Just getting the feisty young woman out of the command center had been challenging enough, he mused. Leia seemed especially annoyed and upset, but not necessarily at him, which was unusual. He could tell – there was something else; _something, _he couldn't put a finger on…Leia had exhibited a sense of resignation in that crumbling command center; it almost seemed as if she planned to stay, to meet her fate on that frozen rock of a planet. Han had no intentions of letting the Princess sacrifice herself, forcefully shuffling them to the Falcon…

_The Princess… _

His thoughts swirled around and returned to the diminutive spitfire yet again; images of their tender kiss they had shared quickening his pulse, fanning long suppressed emotions and desires. From the moment they met two standard years ago, in the Death Star's detention block, sparks immediately flew between them, intensifying over time.

In the past, the smuggler lived up to his name - enjoying the pursuit of his latest conquest, then eventually moving on; having no interest in a long-term relationship and emotional entanglements; too costly and risky, in his self-centered opinion.

So it was no surprise his attraction to the Princess began in a similar fashion; primally driven by lustful desires. Obviously aware of her beauty, Han's mind had ended up in it's usual place - the gutter; wondering what Leia looked like naked, finding himself fantasizing more and more about touching, tasting every fiery, young inch of her…

Han had attempted all of his 'tried and true' pick-up lines and moves, but the composed girl always had a quick-witted retort ready for him; her resistance to his offers fueling his determination to have her. The scoundrel in him craved release, finding a little in teasing and taunting Leia, delighting in the flush that would appear on her cheeks after his latest comment laced with some proposition or innuendo, which would always lead to a fiery verbal battle between the two.

But as the months and missions passed, Han had grown to appreciate Leia for more than just carnal reasons. She could be so haughty, argumentative, stubborn...but undeniably beautiful, intelligent, witty, and could handle a blaster like one of the boys. She carried herself with incredible poise and decorum, but also, albeit rarely, she would show her youth and vulnerability. His fascination in the enigmatic Princess grew to more than just wanting to bed her; much to his own dismay, Han found himself developing a sincere, deep desire to protect her, defend her; Leia's contact and presence stirring unfamiliar emotions in the seasoned pirate.

Their sparring matches grew in frequency and intensity - two stubborn souls battling, he secretly hoped, from a longing, a desire, neither was willing yet to acknowledge. But there _were_ encouraging moments (his years of experience with the opposite sex had taught him that much) a shy glance, the way her eyes would light up when he approached, the embraces she showered on him from returning from a mission, told Han his instincts were correct; she was attracted to him, as well as perhaps, feeling more…

And, finally, that kiss!

Like a spice addict, the first taste of Leia's sweet lips fueled Han's desire for her exponentially, occupying his thoughts. *Kreth! I'm behaving like some teenager – not a 32 year old man!*, silently chastising himself. The realist in him poked his conscience, ushering in conflicting thoughts that tempered Han's excitement. A massive bounty hung over him like a dark cloud, threatening to consume him and possibly anyone else nearby. The thought of Leia getting injured or worse, because of the price on his head , because of _him_, made Han's chest tighten and stomach turn. Heaving out a deep sigh, slowly standing and stretching, he found himself exiting the cockpit in search of a petite princess…


	2. Chapter 2

With the unrecognizable food items having been discarded quickly into the disposal unit, Leia leaned deeper into the galley's refrigeration cube, determined to scrub away any filthy residue, wrinkling her pretty nose, muttering, "apparently, cold-unit cleanliness is not very high on a certain smuggler's priority list." It would take four standard days to reach Corellia, and although Han would certainly have everyone's assigned duties set by tomorrow, a restless Princess could not sit idle for long.

The mild physical activity was successful in burning off some pent-up energy, though her thoughts were still occupied with an incredibly handsome, dark haired Corellian and their brief romantic encounter. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she stilled, momentarily lost in the memory of Han's amazing hazel eyes and deep, velvety smooth voice; of his distinct masculine scent, mixed with engine grease and some exotic spicy aftershave; her tiny hand being swallowed up in his… those same work-roughened hands caressing her cheek, pulling her into a tender yet insistent, intoxicating kiss - she could almost feel his warm, soft lips on hers again…the vivid thoughts causing a flush of heat to spread over Leia, quickening her breathing and heart-rate. She had fantasized hundreds of just – such scenarios; the reality far surpassing her dreams…

"God's what have I done !", an unusual mixture of excitement and trepidation filling the Princess -thrilling in the Captain's apparent attraction to her, yet fearful of her own feelings and emotions that were threatening to bubble over and escape from her well-guarded heart. Leia pondered the spectrum of impressions she had of the Captain. Han was the most self-assured, overly confident, down-right cocky man in the universe. His stubbornness and strong personality frequently irritated her, leading to some of the most intense verbal battles between two humans, she mused; he almost seemed to enjoy getting her riled up. Yet despite his teasing, swaggering and sometimes oafish bravado, Han had proven himself ruthless (to his adversaries), brave, intelligent and honest, and had saved her life countless times. He could also be surprisingly kind and protective, and she enjoyed his dry, sometimes off-color sense of humor.

_He's too wild and reckless … he would never be seriously interested in me, he thinks of me as some spoiled, inexperienced girl...he's leaving, eventually, to pay off Jabba, and probably won't return anyway…I wouldn't want to be another 'notch' in his blaster belt_… But no matter how badly she tried to dissuade herself, Leia was drawn to the handsome pirate, and their sensual encounter pushed her towards him more *His eyes, hands, mouth… they conveyed more than just lust; I'm almost certain of it…*

A sense of melancholy overcame Leia, wistfully wishing her family, most especially her father Bail, were alive to provide counsel and loving advice, blinking back sudden tears… * I don't know a thing about men, especially _scoundrels_…* Princess Leia Organa, as far back as she could recall, had been schooled and prepped for a life of public service for Alderaan. Bittersweet memories returned to her now; countless lessons in cultural etiquette, public speaking, proper dress and appropriate behavior befitting a Princess…everything in her life scrupulously controlled and compartmentalized; there certainly was no time for frivolities and dating, especially at a time with political unrest brewing all over the galaxy. And although Leia had inherited a genuine interest in political activism, many facets of royal life were less than appealing, including arranged marriages, which was archaic in her opinion. She would marry for love, a youthful senator of sixteen from Alderaan once told herself emphatically; before the emergence of the Rebellion, before the tragic death of her family and obliteration of her home planet.

Those horrible events affecting and scarring Leia forever, the Princess soon erected formidable walls around her broken heart. The result of those miseries endured, she now bore a cool, almost emotionless façade; a well-practiced defense mechanism to hide behind. The idea of any more personal loss completely terrifying, she focused her mind and energies on the success of the Alliance and destruction of the Empire, hoping '_the cause'_( which she _did_ believe in fervently,) would fill her mind and heart, dulling the pain and providing a meaningful purpose in life.

Smirking cynically, Leia pondered what her father's opinion would be, concerning the unofficial 'conference' between Mon Mothma, General Dodonna, and the other Alliance power brokers she had unintentionally stumbled upon; eaves-dropping and learning of their 'special plans' for her. Leia's stomach twisting with renewed dismay, anger and bitterness at their intentions. *How could they expect to _use_ me in such a manner, after everything I've sacrificed and lost; all the heartaches…*, tears threatening to overwhelm her, disillusionment settling in the pit of her stomach. She had joined the Rebellion to fight the numerous injustices the Empire was spreading throughout the galaxy –tyranny, oppression, corruption, manipulation…. Now the Princess was, ironically, on the receiving end of some of those herself, from individuals she trusted completely and had believed they had her best interests at heart.

Suddenly, a rush of altogether different emotions whispered to Leia's mind, urging, beckoning… in the past two years, she could always depend on _him_; he had never let her down, no matter what the circumstances…. _talk to Han, trust him…._

"Hey sweetheart, a credit for your thoughts…", Han's deep voice bounced off the durasteel walls of the galley, causing Leia to stifle a sob, hastily wiping tears away with the back of her hand. The Princess took a moment to compose herself before turning to see a familiar lopsided grin….


	3. Chapter 3

The Captain face had a bemused expression, his lips curling upwards at the unexpected sight; a sometimes haughty princess furiously scrubbing the cold-storage unit of the galley, practically wedged half-way into it herself. "You're cleaning the 'fridge'?" he chuckled, "What brought on the sudden urge to do KP duty?-you gotta be _really_ bored, sweetheart..." She straightened and paused her cleaning, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, her back still towards him. "… you and I could come up with more enjoyable activities to do together…" he drawled smoothly, as Leia turned to appraise him, moving towards the sink to wash her hands.

Setting the worn towel down, she studied his long, lanky form, leaning casually against the threshold of the galley, the picture of confidence, obviously leering at her from across the room. Ignoring his initial question and innuendo, Leia returned with a smirk, "I must say, Captain, It's hard to believe we haven't gotten food poisoning, after having consumed some items- questionable at best, from that cold-unit…", shooting a raised eyebrow at the undaunted man slowly approaching her, a crooked grin on his face.

"Hey, everything in there was top of the line edibles...well, for the most part. Maybe you aren't impressed by my Corellian culinary skills? -That hurts, Princess ", a mock injured tone in his voice, touching a hand to his heart. "Hey, at least the meals I've prepped haven't been _raw_; be thankful Chewie isn't doing the cooking; we'd be tripping over each other, fighting for the 'fresher…"

With a small giggle, she offered him a shy smile, "I could be of some assistance, if you want- you may find it hard to believe, but I _do_ know my way around a kitchen…", her voice trailing off as Han stopped and stood in front of her. Leia could feel a warm flush developing on her cheeks, his closeness causing an excited uneasiness inside her. Han tucked a few stray strands of hair that had made their way out of her intricate plait, his attraction to the Princess swelling, supposing inexperience and shyness caused her to glance away nervously. His hand travelled down the length of her arm, searching for and finding her petite hand, lacing their fingers together. Han slowly brought Leia's chin upwards with his other large hand, delighting in the opportunity to study her flushed face. Han's smirk faded away as he studied her slightly swollen, red-rimmed eyes. It was painfully obvious the girl had been crying, her attempt at avoiding eye contact unnerving. Han's breath hitched in his tightened throat, half-dreading to discover the reason why. "What's wrong, Leia? Are you alright?", anxiously wondering *Kreth – is she going to say our kiss was a mistake?- maybe she's not interested in a two-bit smuggler…*, a sinking feeling settling in his gut.

Leia could see the worry in his now darkened, hazel eyes and the tension in his strong jawline as he gaped at her expectantly. A surge of affection for him flooded over Leia, suddenly desiring to bury herself into the warmth and safety of his embrace; to feel his gentle touch, his full lips on hers…

"Leia?" he whispered with a gravelly voice, waiting, as patiently as possible for a response from the beautiful Princess, bracing himself for whatever her response might be. He wasn't easily put-off, and had no intention of giving up... Smiling up at him through wet eyes, Leia impulsively stroked his cheek with her petite hand, trailing a finger over the familiar scar on his chin.

He still had no clue as to what she had been upset enough to be crying over, but primal desires overtook cognitive abilities, and encouraged by Leia's delicate caress, Han slowly, deliberately pressed his lips to the silky smooth skin on her high cheekbones, then working his lips down towards her mouth. Their first kiss had been all about innocence and beginnings_; _now, he needed more…placing one large hand on the nape of her delicate neck, the other wrapping around her tiny waist, he gently pulled the visibly trembling Princess closer, pressing his lips tenderly to hers. He deepened the kiss, Leia willingly accepting his exploring tongue with a soft moan of delight. Han's heart and libido soared at her innocent receptivity, his desire for Leia flaming white-hot as he pressed himself into her soft, supple curves as she ran her fingers through his already tousled hair.

Eventually, Leia was the first to break the kiss, gasping for air but remaining in his arms, Han's mouth travelling down her jawline, then pulse-point. "god's Leia, do you realize what you do to me? You're so beautiful…", rasping against the smooth skin of her throat, moving his lips back towards her intoxicating lips. The salty taste of tears on her pale cheeks sobered him immediately as Leia buried her face into his muscled chest, inhaling his familiar, masculine scent; the warm wetness of her tears soaking into his shirt.

He berated himself silently, *slow down buddy – don't blow this by rushing her into something she's not ready for…* Wrapping his long arms around her tiny form, he rubbed her back and caressed her shoulders, whispering into her soft hair, "Talk to me, Leia… did I do something…?", placing a tiny kiss on the top of her head. "No," shaking her head, "it's nothing you've done…."

Leia was afraid –Han was evoking feelings she had never felt before, that were both arousing and frightening all at once. The defensive walls she had hid behind for the past few years were crumbling fast; dissolving under a barrage of Han's gentle caresses, his velvety voice and overwhelming kisses, leaving her craving more, her heart exposed and vulnerable

_Han, I need you, I want you, I'm afraid to lose you…_but all Leia could manage to croak weakly was, "I'm …confused….upset…hurt…"

He tried deciphering her fragmented admission, slowly repeating the last part, "You've been hurt?", concern building in his voice and weighing down on his now tense shoulders. The captain had imagined several possibilities for the cause of the Princesses tears; perhaps missing her family, the loss of Alderaan, nightmares about her time on the Death Star, the numerous stresses brought on by war…whatever the cause, he desperately wanted to comfort her, to protect her. Without another thought, he swiftly brought an arm underneath the back of Leia's knees, effortlessly sweeping her up into his strong embrace. Instinctively she gasped with surprise, but wrapped an arm around Han's neck as his hot breath caressed her temple, "Open up to me Leia", his voice soothing and persuasive, "let me _in_; I promise, I won't hurt you...", striding over to the corner seating area, sitting down with her across his lap, cradling her like a frightened child, the Princess' cheek pressed against his broad chest.

After a few moments, she raised her head from his comforting embrace, summoning the courage to meet his gaze. She calmed, seeing the yearning in his smoldering eyes; the once-mercenary, who at times could be so brash and cynical, now displaying a level of tenderness and emotion she had never seen before in him.

"…when we were on Hoth… I … stumbled onto something…", she slowly began, hesitating, trying to formulate the best explanation of the personal bombshell she had stumbled upon on that miserable Ice planet.

Han rashly jumped to conclusions before the Princess could finish, "was it McKaren again? What'd he say this time? Did that prick make another pass at you?….", unable to hide the irritation and jealousy from his tone, subconsciously tightening his grip on her.

His slight outburst brought a tiny bemused grin to her lips, "No; I'm happy to say I don't think he will ever bother me again, thanks to you…", Han smiling sheepishly at her comment .

The Princess momentarily recalled that holovid-worthy event back on Hoth. Leia had reluctantly attended one of the Rogue squadron's morale boosting events, which always consisted of lots of intoxicants, a wide variety of music and drunken men in search of female company. Ty McKaren, a relatively new recruit, had become a little too 'friendly' with the Princess, invading her personal space and making some highly inappropriate suggestions, which she politely, but promptly rebuffed. Upset at his lack of progress with her, McKaren became insulting and belligerent, leaving a typically stoic Princess in tears, and one pissed off smuggler in the foreground observing the whole exchange. Han had promptly escorted Leia back to her quarters, reassuring and comforting her, staying until she finally drifted off to sleep. On her way through the corridors the following morning, in search of Han, wanting to express her appreciation, she first was greeted by a nervous Ty McKaren, now sporting two black eyes and a broken nose, apologizing profusely for his poor behavior from the night before. When she finally found Han, she immediately noticed his hands; the knuckles on his right hand were swollen and tightly wrapped, the other wearing a few new cuts and abrasions. Han never said a word, and Leia didn't have to ask, who got in the way of his fists …._he's always protecting me…_

Han chided softly, "Well, if it wasn't McKaren…then…", stroking her delicate jawline, encouraging her with his gentle caresses and deep soothing voice. She began, sighing disappointedly…."It's Mon Mothma and Dodonna; I overheard …their plans for me….", wincing, a look of dismay and discouragement on her pretty face. Before she could elaborate, a large Wookie burst into the galley, tired, hungry and surprised to see the petite Princess sitting on the Captain's lap, tangled in each others' arms…


	4. Chapter 4

She caught the blur of mottled brown fur from the corner of her eye, followed by a surprised grunt. Turning her head, Leia's eyes followed Chewbacca into the galley, her body stiffening in Han's embrace. The captain muttered a Corellian swear word under his breath, while the Princess scrambled hastily off his lap, her cheeks ablaze from embarrassment.

Running a hand through his unruly hair, frustration rippled through Han, snorting "What the hell – can we _ever_ get a few minutes alone, uninterrupted?" He had sensed she was close to confiding in him, of trusting him enough to share something substantial; now that opportunity vanished into the stuffy air of the galley, Chewbacca barking an apology as he sheepishly made his way to the cold-unit.

Chewbacca was initially caught off-guard by the scene he had stumbled upon, though not surprised. His 'Cub' and the 'Little Princess' (as he commonly referred to the two), had been strangely denying their mutual attraction for a long time, which baffled the wookie, frequently puzzled by humans' courting habits. The Chewbacca's eyes darted back and forth between Han and Leia, his highly refined sense of smell identifying arousal and fear. "You didn't upset the Little Princess, did you Cub?", growling warily at his Captain.

Leia, although not fluent in Shryiiwook, easily understood Chewbacca's body language, and the tone of his inquiry. "It's alright, Chewbacca – Han was comforting me…" *_among other things*_, she thought, quickly adding, "I should really be working on a few other tasks", although her feet seemed glued to where she was standing.

Han bristled at Chewbacca's question, snapping back "Of course I didn't, you over-grown fuzzball; thanks for the vote of confidence…", standing up from the booth, his hand reflexively jerking towards the throbbing soreness emanating from his bruised back and side. The sensual interlude with the beautiful Princess, wiggling on his lap, buried in his waiting arms had distracted him from the discomfort growing in his back. Han noted, ruefully, how warm the galley had become, wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his brow, wondering if the climate controls were on 'the fritz' as well .*_just great; another thing to fix on this tin can_*, grimacing to himself. Ignoring the hungry wookie rummaging through the fridge, Han instead tried focusing on the enigmatic Princess; her petite form appearing blurry and darkened to his watery eyes. Shaking his head slightly, he ran a hand over his face, the pounding of his heartbeat loud in his ears, realizing something was wrong with _him_, not his battered ship.

Leia looked at Han and began slowly approaching the ashen captain, placing a hand on his forearm, "I feel terrible" he mumbled, matter-of-factly to her, with a slight grin. "Hope I didn't give us food poisoning, after all…" he jested, his long legs feeling sluggish, making his way into the corridor, extending an arm against the bulkhead to steady himself. Everything seemed to darken around him- even the illuminated buttons and gauges on computer systems grew dim, as he practically collapsed into one of the worn seats around the dejarik table.

"Han!" Leia's voice crackling with surprise at the sight, hurrying over to him, disconcerted at his mildly disoriented-looking appearance - leaning on table with one elbow, beads of sweat peppered his forehead, his skin pale and clammy as she ran delicate fingers over his cheek. She stared at him, concern in her eyes, as Chewbacca, hearing the Princesses raised voice, lumbered over to the commotion.

Han did his best to compose himself, giving a side-ways glance at Leia who was now kneeling in front of him, studying his face with widened eyes. A wave of embarrassment hit him squarely, as the young Princess placed a tiny palm on his forehead, softly reporting "you're burning up..." Through all of their shared missions, meetings, and arguments, he had never shown any sign of weakness, and wished whole-heartedly to keep it that way.

Han let out a slightly exasperated huff, "I'll be fine; trust me, sweetheart…probably just need some sleep…", finishing in his most non-chalant voice he could muster, his side painfully throbbing in response, silently contradicting his words.

C3PO added his opinion, "Perhaps you've contracted some virus, Captain Solo…Oh dear, I hope it's not contagious!, the droid added nervously. A flurry of questions erupted from Chewbacca's mouth as well, Han answering the wookie vaguely then finally admitting, "No, I only have grade-1 Bacta on board, not the heavy-duty stuff; guess what I have isn't helping much," he conceded. "Oh, of course! It could be related to the back and torso injuries you've sustained..."C3PO clucked, while retrieving the med scanner Leia had quietly requested.

Leia's mind was processing the various comments, absorbing the last with a sharply drawn breath "You have _injuries?!_ – what happened…", hesitating as it dawned on her…."it was our escape from Hoth, wasn't it? You said you had just a couple of bruises, Han!...", her voice a mix of worry and frustration. Han shrugged silently, Leia rolling her eyes, sighing, "where are they; let me see them…" not waiting for his approval, placing her fingers on the buttons, working quickly to relieve him of his shirt.

"Why Princess, this is so sudden;" he teased with a smirk, but she ignored the Captains left-handed comment, gaping at the 3 jagged wounds, located mid-rib on the side of his torso, obviously deep, swollen and red-hot with infection. All of the possible desperate scenarios Han could possibly be confronting flashed before her as Leia ran the med-scan carefully over him, exclaiming "You have a fever of 102.3F!", trading glances with Chewbacca and Han. "We should complete a diagnostic swab of those puncture wounds," her throat dry as she hoarsely addressed the Falcon's co-pilot, "I think you may have to get us to Corellia on your own", her voice tight with barely concealed worry. Nodding affirmatively, Chewbacca growled a stream of comforting words, a few of which she could understand. "Han needs to rest in his quarters… do you know if there are any injectable antibiotics stored on board, Chewie?"

He couldn't stand not being in control of his ship, or himself, for that matter; before the co-pilot could answer, Han chimed in, growling, "Ya know, I'm not an invalid or a baby. _I'm_ the pilot of the Falcon and I make those decisions, not anyone else!"…just need to rest...I can take care of myself…." Han declared loudly, intent on making his way to the captain's quarters _without_ the assistance of Chewbacca's extended arm. *_Sure you can, you big oaf_…*, biting her tongue, saying nothing, Leia eyed Han warily as the irritated captain made his way to his cabin, offering quietly, "I'll be there in a minute to check on you; let me see if I can find any other bacta or injectibles…", concern clouding her eyes as she walked briskly down the opposite corridor.


	5. Chapter 5

Leia knocked tentatively on the threshold to the Captain's quarters, clutching a large glass of water in one hand, a satchel of medical supplies slung across her shoulder. She wondered if it would be prudent to enter without an invitation, when a muffled "come on in, unless its 3PO…"sounded from the opposite side of the door. Palming it open, her eyes adjusted to the dimmed lighting, instantly beckoned by Han's baritone voice, "c'mere sweetheart", motioning with a hand, "I could use your company," patting the mattress softly, then depositing his forearm across weary eyes.

She moved closer, noticing Han sprawled across the bed, his dark hair still damp from showering, the scent of his familiar exotic after shave causing a tingling sensation inside her. The Princess' eyes travelled over his lean yet muscular form; attired only in a pair of black boxers, one long leg casually crossed over the other at the ankle. She couldn't help but admire Han's masculine physique, never before seeing him in such a state of undress, blushing at his lack of clothing and the impure thoughts running through her mind. Han smiled to himself, instinctively aware of Leia studying his body. Self-confident and too seasoned a scoundrel to be embarrassed, chiding smoothly, "See anything you like, Princess? You're welcome to make a thorough examination if you want...", lifting his forearm to peek at the flustered girl, finally propping up on his elbows, shooting her an inviting grin. Han expected a stinging retort, but instead, she only gave him a shy smile, leaning over him as she tenderly brushed the hair off his forehead, offering him the glass of cool water as he sat up, wincing in pain. "You need lots of fluids, and take this," she offered sympathetically, giving him an oral caplet, "this should help with the pain you must be experiencing…."

He swallowed the pill down with a large gulp of water, then drained the cup, adding "_You_ could distract me from my discomfort…", he offered huskily, waggling his eyebrows at Leia, putting an arm around her hip and tugging her closer. The Princess shook her head with a tiny grin, incredulous, "even now, feverish and in pain, you've got a one-track mind; easy, flyboy…let me give you an antibiotic injectable," wiggling out of his arms, motioning over towards the nightstand. "We could only find 3 injectables, and the level 1 Bacta you mentioned earlier," popping the safety cover off the syringe, flicking the base with her index finger then expressing any air bubbles.

He didn't react as Leia pressed the needle into his shoulder, "Yeah, that sounds about right; I should have pocketed some of the heavy-duty bacta when we were on Base – serves me right for being honorable…", leaning back against the bulkhead wall with a slight groan. He appeared disheveled, hair going in all directions, scruffy and sore, and completely adorable, the Princess thought affectionately. Grabbing a lumpy pillow that had fallen to the floor, Leia motioned for Han to sit up, so as to wedge it behind him, at the same time explaining how she needed to care for the lacerations on his torso.

As she set the pillow behind him, the sight of his back and shoulders caused her to gasp audibly. The fresh bruises from Hoth colored his tanned skin a reddish purple hue, but even more disturbing were the multiple streaks of scars criss-crossing his muscled back….and what were those other marks?, her stomach twisting in knots. "My gods, Han, what happened to you?", gently tracing a finger along one scar that traveled from his left shoulder blade diagonally downwards, her other hand ghosting over what appeared to be burn marks. Leia imagined the potential scenarios that could have been the cause; cantina brawls? knife fights? Was it some cruel punishment inflicted at the Imperial Academy? But the sheer _quantity _alluded to more than a few incidents…

Perhaps the high fever was affecting his sharpness and dulling his defenses as Han muttered instantly, "My 'old man was a real piece of work, especially when he was drunk…things got real interesting if he had rings on or used his belt...", slumping back, against the pillow, his face stoic. Leia stared, sitting on the edge of the cot, dumbfounded, blinking at him, finally whispering "your own _Father _did this to you..?", reaching for his hand, grabbing it convulsively. "Yeah, I thought it better if he pounded on me than my poor mom…", his hazel eyes suddenly avoiding hers, now intensely studying their linked hands. The Princess' mind reeled; she wanted to ask him more, tears pooling in her saddened eyes, imagining a young Corellian boy, beaten and abused by his own parent. Discerning this was not the time to ask about his youth, she instead placed a soft, tender kiss on his cheek, whispering, "I'm so sorry…", he nodded, looking away again, obviously uncomfortable, shifting restlessly, agitated by the recollection of long-suppressed memories. Even Chewbacca knew little about the brutality Han's father had inflicted on him, being the oldest son, who also bore the brunt of the 'punishment', for attempting to protect his mother.

Attempting to distract Han, she offered soothingly, "Why don't you lay down; I'll apply some of the bacta ointment to those wounds," He nodded silently, then slid down on the mattress, turning slightly to give her better access to the deep cuts across his side. The captain closed his heavy eyelids, his body sinking into the bed, sore and tired, his mind desperate for a reprieve from the memories of his sordid youth.

Leia did her best to apply the ointment as delicately as possible to the swollen reddened lacerations, noticing Han flinch slightly at her touch. She offered sympathetically, "I'm sorry if this hurts; I'll be done soon….", continuing, finding herself humming an old Alderaanian lullabye as she carefully applied the salve to the remaining gashes, gently bandaging them when finished. The Princess assumed he was asleep - his closed eyes and shallow, soft breathing convinced her. Nevertheless, Leia continued humming the lullabyes she remembered from her childhood, caressing his forehead, stroking his hair.

*Maybe getting sick isn't such a bad thing after all*, he mused, enjoying Leia's light touch and soothing voice. Finally, after quite some time, he whispered, "I like it when we play patient/nurse; I should have thrown myself at twisted metal and ice sooner…"his voice trailing off. He heard a tiny giggle and felt her pull the sheet and blanket up over him, then her soft, warm lips were on his, suddenly opening his eyes at the unexpected surprise. "You really need to get some sleep…" she offered soothingly to Han. His long fingers wrapped around her forearm, pulling her closer, using more strength than she imagined a man in such a weakened state would have. Han's words were soft and devoid of its usual bravado, as he asked Leia earnestly, "Come back, when you can," fighting the veil of sleep threatening to pull his eyelids shut. "I'll be back soon, I promise" she responded fervently, touching her lips to his forehead just as slumber overtook him.


	6. Chapter 6

The Princess and Chewbacca sat in stunned silence as C3PO prattled the bleak results from the test swab, nervously relaying the grim diagnosis – "It appears Captain Solo has contracted Tetanexus, an extremely aggressive bacterial infection, most likely from whatever punctured his flesh while escaping Hoth. Some of the typical side effects exhibited are vomiting, delirium, volitale mood swings, sometimes accompanied by irrational, violent behavior. Tetanexus is frequently fatal, due to the excessively high fevers brought on by the infection." Leia stared, dumbfounded, at the droid's revelation, C3PO attempting to add a glimmer of hope in his mechanical voice, "there _is_ a slim possibility of recovery, based on several variables; the age and general health of the individual, how soon the infection is identified and treated…, best results, of course, when highly aggressive antibiotics are administered…"

Chewbacca was growling an emotional volley of questions at the flustered droid, none of which Leia heard; the riot of emotions churning within, leaving her stunned and almost appearing in a state of shock. Interrupting the pair with an unusually shaky tone, "Thank you 3PO for the information you've provided, but now we have to focus on Han's current needs…", quickly turning on an unsteady heel, exiting toward the Captain's quarters; the simple meal she had gobbled down earlier sitting like a brick in her now upset stomach, heart racing as panic crept up her throat, the reality of Han's condition uncertain and frightening. *He's in this situation, sick and suffering, because of protecting me; saving me from harm, once again…*, hot tears welling in her eyes.

*This just can't be possible* she thought, in disbelief, rubbing her pounding temples, * – he's too stubborn a man to succumb to an illness….Han has always been a master of narrow escapes and of beating the odds- he'll beat this too…he _has_ to; I can't lose him…* The Princess struggled to calm her mind and heart before entering Han's cabin, inhaling a deep breath, slowly exhaling as she palmed the door open, anxious to access his current condition.

As she entered the darkened cabin, her entire being focused on Han, needing to be at his side, to touch him… in an instant, she found herself kneeling down at the side of his disheveled bed, her widened eyes staring at him. He was laying on his side, facing the bulkhead wall, visibly shaking, covered in a thin layer of glistening sweat; languishing in a tangled mess of sheets. Leia's emotions threatened to overtake her, choking on tears as she whispered his name, "Han…Han…", placing her hand on his shoulder, running her fingers over his burning- hot skin. Grunting, he shifted towards Leia, seemingly responding to her gentle voice and touch, yet his eyes remained tightly shut as painful moans and unintelligible words escaped his mouth, struggling to win the battle raging inside him. The Princess dreaded checking the results of the med scanner, its cruel warning beep indicating his body temperature now up to 103 degrees. A sense of helplessness flooded over her; struggling to find _something_ to help him, to console him, ravaged by the noctuous infection spreading thru his body.

Gulping stale air into her lungs, she filled a basin with fresh water, gathering the softest towels she could find. The air in the cabin was thick and oppressive, as she adjusted the thermo controls to increase air circulation, then peeled her outer shirt over her head, the camisole far more comfortable as nimble hands soaked the small cloths in the cool water, wringing them out before tenderly caressing his burning forehead and cheeks. Han's restlessness and delirious rantings lessening as she whispered words of comfort and affection to him, continuing to sponge off his neck, arms, and chest, careful to avoid the guilty lacerations. She softly sang a few Corellian folk songs she had learned, after discovering they were his favorites, pondering in her heart memories of their tumultuous relationship. After many hours, she reluctantly agreed to Chewbacca's insistence that she rest and care for her own needs, the Wookie promising to watch over his Captain…

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Unable to stay away from Han for any significant length of time, the Princess returned to her bedside vigil. Shortly after her return, he began shifting about in the cot, restlessness and agitation growing in his tormented body. Concern filled her face as he thrashed in the tangled sheets, his handsome face now contorted in an angered expression. He was struggling with a nightmare, it appeared, releasing a string of obscenities as his words became understandable. "Don't… don't hurt her, leave her alone, you bastard….she's just a girl…", his face twisting again in emotional pain, "I'll fucking kill you if you lay a hand on her…gods….oh Leia,… I can't leave, I'll always want you… love me …I need you…", sobbing as he cried her name aloud, thrashing against some unseen enemy. Leia's mind raced at his rambling declaration, *He's always coming to my rescue, even in his dreams…he's dreaming….dreaming of me…he _wants_ me, wants my love…?!*, a feeling of guilty elation spreading thru her chest. Impulsively she grabbed his forearms, crying emotionally "I'm here for you, I'm here, Han…I want you too", desperately blanketing his cheeks and dry, chapped lips with kisses, pressing her cheek against his. Leia's whispered, her mouth close to his , "Soon I'll be able to give you another injectable, but you've _got_ to _try_, Han", her voice quavering, "You are the most stubborn, incorrigible man I've ever met; don't you _dare_ give up now, Han Solo…"rasping demandingly against his cheek, "fight to live; fight for _me,_ the words spilling out of her mouth uncontrollably, "I need you; I can't go on without you; I….", stopping abruptly before she said aloud what she undeniably felt for Han; fearing she would lose him for sure if she tempted fate and uttered those life-changing words; he would be taken away from her, just as she lost everything else she loved. A deluge of tears spilled out of Leia's eyes, splashing on his neck and bare chest, her control crumbling as she desperately grasped his large, shaking hand, placing her wet cheek in his open palm; emotionally exhausted, slumping to the metal floor …

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Leia released a small sigh, slowly opening heavy eyelids to find herself in the Captains bed, his arms wrapped possessively around her tiny frame, a stubbly cheek resting peacefully on her breast, his large body half-atop her, the pressure of his weight comforting. The Princess wasn't sure how she ended up in his cot, Han clinging to her like a life-line, but she didn't care, either. An unexpected sense of calmness enveloped the two, a welcome respite from Han's bouts of delirium, agitated rantings and restlessness. He had a prolonged period of groggy consciousness, in which Leia happily provided vital liquids for the ailing pilot to consume, before Han drifted off to sleep once again, curled around the physically and emotionally spent Princess, who drifted off as well, tangled in each other's comforting arms.

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Leia yawned, her wakened attention returning to the dark- haired Corellian nuzzling into her softness with a deep, contented sigh and tiny smile on his lips, as she tenderly stroked his cheek with her tiny fingers. She felt the moist heat of his calm breathing, and the low vibration of his voice on her breast, as he weakly spoke, "Leia, sweetheart, are you alright? Am I crushing you?…", the sensation of his hand stroking the side of her neck, coupled with his coherent inquiry caused her to twist slightly in his embrace, widened brown eyes searching Han's haggard face and his tired but clear, hazel eyes. Her lips curled up, eyes filling with tears of joy as a tiny, as bemused giggle escaped, "no, you're not crushing me…", pressing her soft lips to his forehead tenderly. He gave her a crooked grin, murmuring in the delicate curve of her neck, "You're my Qu'telle, my angel,…my girl…"closing his heavy-lidded eyes, burying himself into her soft, inviting curves, "Stay with me always….", his uninhibited, throaty plea causing her heart to swell as tears of joy ran down her cheeks, shyly agreeing, "I'm here, you scoundrel, and I'll always be your girl…", caressing his tousled hair lovingly.

She could feel his lips curling upwards against the pale skin of her chest, then stretching his long limbs, he lost himself again in her embrace, squeezing Leia tightly as his breathing slowed, drifting back into a contented slumber.

Leia felt a guarded sense of relieve and optimism; he was still feverish, but the last two thermo scans had shown Han's temperature had decreased from 102.5 to 101.4 degrees, thank the Maker, certainly moving in the right direction. His emotional declaration for her the prior night, was a revelation beyond her expectations, thrilling the young Princess, a sense of anticipation and joy filling her. She had an epiphany of sorts; setting aside fears, Leia resolved to no longer suppress her feelings for the complex pirate; She would love Han with her whole mind and heart, regardless of the consequences, good or bad. Filled with hope, Leia said a silent Alderaani prayer of thanksgiving before sleep claimed her, unaware their state of contended bliss would be short-lived…


	7. Chapter 7

**The rating for this chapter is elevated to M, for language and violence**

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Although having such an intimidating, enormous form, Chewbacca still managed to sneak into the Captain's quarters without being noticed, unwilling to eavesdrop any longer outside the door. He smiled a toothy-grin at the sight; his Cub's cheek, lovingly buried against the breast of the Little Princess, both in a state of contented sleep. Chewbacca hoped not only in the continued improvement of Han's health, but also that this touching scene revealed, perhaps, they had broken down each others' emotional barriers and finally admitted their feelings for one another.

It was necessary to check the pilot's temperature once again, the wookie's large paw gingerly grasping the thermo scan and running it across Han's relaxed forehead. Leia stirred at the sound of the scanners' monitoring beeps, too groggy to be embarrassed at her half-dressed appearance and the intimate scene of Han pressed up against her exposed pale skin, a large hand underneath the bottom edge of her camisole splayed out possessively across her flat stomach.

Chewbacca eagerly read the scanner - 101.4 degrees, emitting a grunt of satisfaction at the results, a large grin painting his hairy face as he signaled Leia to the door. Wiggling out from underneath Han's heavy body and the tangled sheets, the Princess hesitated for a moment, her eyes caressing over Han's peaceful countenance, still deep in slumber. A surge of optimism curled her lips upward, spontaneously giving him a soft peck on the cheek before reluctantly untangling her limbs from his and making her way to the door.

Once standing in the light-filled corridor, C3PO translated the series of soft hoots and growls from the Falcon's first mate; "Mistress Leia, Chewbacca insists that you take a break from nursing the Captain; we are capable of ministering to his needs…", the Wookie gently pushing a plate of warm food in her hands. She obediently chewed on a piece of toast, pleading to Chewbacca, "I'll shower and rest a little, but I _need_ to be near him; he's still very weak and feverish…" her voice overflowing with unveiled devotion for the pirate. He smiled and nodded at her endearing response, then disappeared into the room with the golden droid.

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The update C3PO had provided regarding Han's condition was encouraging; even though his fever had plateaued, it would likely decrease further after the last antibiotic injectable, due to be administered at 1900 hours. Chewbacca had managed to get him to eat a fair amount of chziaki rice soup and to drink a good amount of liquids, thank goodness… It worried her that he still occasionally suffered from bouts of irrational thoughts, typical of Tetanexus patients, but he _was_ still improving, albeit at a slower rate than she hoped. Brushing her long, still slightly damp hair, she smiled at C3PO's bewildered final comment _– "Captain Solo seemed rather irritated when we offered to sponge him off, telling us he'd rather you perform that task, Princess Leia…" _*somehow, I'm not surprised by that*, Leia thought wryly, stifling a giggle, finishing her hair into a simple, loose braid. Glancing at the chrono, she still had enough time to pull a nightgown on before returning to Han. *Thank goodness I always keep an emergency supply of clothing on the Falcon…* she thought happily; in any case, soon they would be arriving on Corellia and would be able to pick up anything that might be missing or in short supply on the battered freighter.

The sleeveless silk nightgown was a beautiful pale iridescent ivory that shimmered in the cabin's illumination, highlighting her feminine curves beautifully, leaving the Princess to wonder if Han would notice. She swiftly pulled on the matching robe, modesty overriding any other thoughts, reminding herself to focus on his improving, but still weakened and feverish state.

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The Falcon was darkened and quiet, with the exception of the beeps and hummings of the numerous computers, continuing their never-ending analyses. After having retrieved the last antibiotic injectable from med storage, Leia quietly entered Han's cabin, expectant and eager for another evening in the arms of Han, relishing his touch…filled with anticipation. What would he say to her, what would they talk about in his awake moments. Wincing, Leia mildly admonished herself, *For heavens sake, I'm behaving like some lovesick teenager…well, actually, I'm not all that far out of my teens…*, smiling coyly. * gods help me, I love him…* she confessed silently, beseeching the heavens to aid in his recovery, as she made her way over to the nightstand which was now a makeshift medical collection of bandages, ointments and other supplies.

The Princess lifted up the injectable in the dim lighting afforded her, checking for any air bubbles. The hum of the climate controls and her own thoughts so preoccupying, she didn't notice Han staring and scrutinizing her form the moment she entered the stuffy cabin.

He dubiously observed this young women, perhaps in her early twenties at best, slipping silently into his quarters, momentarily distracted by her youthful beauty and the silky gown enveloping her petite frame. She was clutching something in her tiny hand, though it didn't appear to be an _obvious_ weapon; _still_….

Han carefully, painstakingly sat up, so as to not draw immediate attention to himself, eyes searching the surroundings for his holster, apparently no where close-by. _Damnit_…

He felt out of sorts and slightly disoriented, his body aching all over * I must have gotten really hammered last night*, not recalling the circumstances that led himself to his current situation. Wiping the thin layer of sweat from his bow, growling loudly, "Who the hell are you?" his voice cold, filled with suspicion.

Startled, Leia twisted around at the sound of his harsh voice, gasping audibly, as she studied Han's face, staring at her with a frown, his hazel eyes narrowing. He was slowly standing up from the rumpled bed, looking her up and down, arms crossed defensively in front of his bare chest.

Blinking, she stared at him with disbelief; surely she had mis-understood his harsh words, yet his demeanor seemed cagey and uncertain. A wave of nervousness heated her skin as she stammered in confusion, "W…what did you say?", her head turning slightly upward at an angle and perusing his impassive face.

She fidgeted, growing uncomfortable at his continued icy stare, "If you are trying to be funny Han, you are only succeeding in irritating me…", nearly dropping the injectable on the nearby table.

He wore a skeptical, calloused expression, his brow furrowed in thought as he slowly, methodically approached Leia, causing a wave of uneasiness to creep up her spine.

"Han, it's me, Leia…", she implored incredulously, startled by the look of distrust on his hardened face, instinctively stepping backwards from his predatory-appearing advance..

The smuggler, now at a closer proximity, could not help but notice her beautiful face, framed by silky dark, braided hair, openly admiring her physical _attributes_. Her large, dark brown eyes caught his attention again, noting how the girl's eyes quickly darted past him, to the portal, wryly guessing she was trying to figure out an escape plan. A cold smirk curled his lips upwards, as he spoke guardedly, " I must have picked you up in a bar, since I don't remember a thing….how the hell did you get into a cantina – fake ID?", he scoffed. Leia gaped at him, wide-eyed, realizing he was dead-serious and had no clue as to who she was or what she was doing in his cabin, wearing nothing but a nightgown and thin robe. "… I bet you can be quite _persuasive_…" he smiled devilishly at her, leering, his darkened eyes raking over her body unabashedly, carnal desires stirring in his groin. Leia stared at him is disbelief, pulling the opening of the silk robe tighter across her chest, her mind racing to process his irrational thoughts. The feverish captain continued his inquiry, scratching his stubbly chin. "Bet you are one of Jabba's bounty hunters – he uses some pretty _inventive_ ways to snare smugglers who owe him", he smiled through gritted teeth. "Fuck Jabba," he snorted loudly, vehemently, "I'll be on a mission to Alderaan soon, that'll make me enough credits to pay off that slimy bastard…", his cynical smile fading as his attention was brought back to the shot gripped tightly in her hand.

*Oh god, he thinks he's back on Tatooine, before the Death Star; he doesn't recognize me, he doesn't even _know_ me, in his mind, yet…*, her chest rising and falling rapidly as panic swiftly filled her. If Han believed her to be a _bounty hunter!_…she had seen, from past experiences how he had dealt with others looking to earn the price on his head: ruthlessly, mercilessly… This was _not _the Han Solo she had grown to discover; the man who had risked his life for hers, protected her, who had begged her, just yesterday, to stay with him forever.

"What's in the shot, baby?" his voice threatening as his face and eyes darkened with anger. The portside girls he was accustomed to having an occasional romp with could not be trusted, based on past experiences…

Leia opened her mouth, but no words came out, as he lunged at the Princess, grabbing her arms, his grip tightening as she let out a small cry, his fingers digging into her delicate skin as he lifted and drove her into the nearest bulkhead wall, pressing Leia against the cold durasteel with his body wedged between her legs, rendering any attempted kicks to sensitive parts impossible. Glowering, he accused her, "thought you'd get laid, then kill me off or drug me when I was asleep, huh?" He smiled mockingly at her, a muffled denial escaping her trembling lips as she struggled against his unyielding grip, his brusque treatment causing her robe to fall open, exposing the upper swell of her full breasts. She could see the unveiled lust burning in his eyes and feel the hardening of him as he ground into her. "Han, please…you're hurting me", she finally croaked, so heartfelt that it momentarily stunned the smuggler, causing him to loosen his grip. This girl, from outward appearances, did not appear hardened or rough enough to be a bounty hunter, he mused, but appearances _can_ be deceiving. The desire to taste her full lips overruled common sense, as he moved to press his mouth against hers. Fear pulsating through her, desperate to escape the nightmare unfolding, Leia hit his jaw with all the strength she could muster, but given her vulnerable position, pinned up against the bulkhead, her blow lacked the momentum needed.

Han snarled at the impact of her knuckles and the feel of nails digging into the skin of his jaw, hissing derogatory swear words and grabbing her arm by the wrist angrily, whipping her forward then back, like a rag-doll, finally backhanding her across the face with such force the Princess was sent flying across the room, tumbling onto his cot, the injectable she had been clutching convulsively now clattering to the floor.

Flashes of light floated in front of Leia, dazed from the brutal backhand inflicted by Han, the room slowly spinning before her eyes as she struggled to focus upon him, now approaching like a hunter stalking some rare prey. Reaching up with a trembling hand, Leia tentatively touched her aching cheek, the odd taste of blood on her tongue, not noticing the droplets dripping down from her cut lip, staining her nightgown. Leia leaned on an elbow, still reeling from the physical and emotional blows assaulting her, barely noticing the cot sink under Han's weight, hovering over her form. Straddling her slender legs, upright on his knees and leaning forward, Han captured her wrists in a vice-like grip, pressing them down onto the mattress.

Han's voice was calm as he spoke in an eerily quiet tone, "Don't _ever_ hit me again, _honey_…ever…", placing a kiss on the reddened cheek he has struck forcefully, then pressed his body down against her, "you're so beautiful, I'm looking forward to giving you what you were looking for, in the first place…", he rasped with a wolfish grin, swiftly transferring both tiny wrists into one large hand, trapping them over her head. With his free hand, Han hastily pulling the robe open, the delicate material protesting with a ripping sound as he roughly slipped a calloused hand under the edge of the nightgown, long fingers stroking her velvety soft skin of her thighs. A shocked cry of protest was swiftly muffled as his mouth descended on her lips in a punishing kiss, brusquely sucking and licking a torrid path down her neck towards the inviting valley between her breasts. "Fuck, you've got the softest skin, the sweetest taste…I've got to see more of you," he moaned, his hands brusquely pulling the straps down her shoulders.

The Princess had often in the past, at times guiltily, fantasized about what it would be like to have Han make love to her, to give herself freely and unabashedly to him, to learn how to please him in the most intimate of ways. This sordid reality was far from any of the imagined scenarios she had dreamt about as she pleaded, "Please Han, don't.… not like this… I love you; come back to me, Han," Leia begged, tears streaming down her cheeks as his determined hands and mouth roughly continued their exploration.

It was the _way_ she said his name that caused him to pause, the look in her tear-filled eyes that froze his actions; there was something _familiar_ about her voice, her intoxicating scent and taste. The hardened face of the mercenary staring at Leia slowly beginning to register a slight hint of recognition…_wait _

Unexpectantly, a blood-curdling growl echoed off the cabin's walls as a huge hairy paw descended across Han's temple, knocking him off Leia, the captain falling to the floor in a crumpled heap. The wookie frantically barked a barrage of questions to the stunned princess, as she pulled the torn straps of her nightgown up over her shoulders slowly, still in a state of shock. Chewbacca turned his fury once again on Han, pulling his unconscious form off the floor with such force that Leia immediately intervened with a concerned shriek, "Wait Chewie, stop! He didn't know what he was doing - Han didn't recognize me - he thought I was a bounty hunter…" she rambled breathlessly, grabbing Chewbacca's strong arms, directing his movements towards the messy bed as the wookie unceremoniously deposited Han's limp form onto the sheets.

The Princesses heart-rate eventually returned to a normal, as she stared at Han, wiping a few lingering tears from her reddened eyes, whispering, "He didn't know what he was doing…he didn't know…", the glimmer of the injectable on the floor in the corner of the room catching her eye. Her legs were sluggish as she unsteadily retrieved the shot and returned to Han's bedside, carefully prepping and administering the precious antibiotics into his arm, before slumping to the cold floorplates, wrapping the tattered robe around her trembling form.

Chewbacca stared, mouth agape at the Little Princess, studying her bruised cheek, bleeding lip and the trail of reddened, blotchy marks on her pale neck, as well as the blood droplets staining her torn clothing. He was completely at a loss for words, unsure exactly what Cub had done to her, gently placing a hairy paw on her shoulder, softly offering grunts of consolation and help. Leia said nothing as she kneeled by the bed, reaching over to brush the hair from Han's forehead, gently examining his temple…


	8. Chapter 8

Han shifted towards the sound of a soft whimper, muffled by layers of pillows and sheets, his heavy eyelids struggling to open. Eventually, he hazily focused on Leia's tiny form, curled up in his cot and facing the bulkhead, practically clinging to the edge of the lumpy mattress. The Captain didn't recall Leia returning to his cabin the night before, but obviously she had, sharing his messy bunk once again. Reaching out for her shoulder, now wrapped in an alluring robe of shimmering material, he lightly ghosted fingers over her spine, reveling in the warmth generated from Leia's skin hidden beneath the silky material and the memories of the previous day, being wrapped around that delectible body, Leia cradling him tenderly.

He couldn't help but grin a satisfied smile at the hazy memories of his convalescence – the Princess' soft dulcet voice humming comforting songs, the sensation of Leia's gentle hands touching his burning-hot skin, caressing him, the feel of her soft lips on his. Maybe it was too good to be true, perhaps it was a delusion brought on by an abnormally high fever, but he could have sworn he heard her confess… 'I need you…fight for me…'. In any case, he definitely recalled the thrill of Leia's delicate touch and scent as he buried his face into her softness the prior evening, recalling with certainty her words, 'I'll always be yours…',

_I never thought I'd be happy to be sick; she's let her guard down, and so have I,_ he admitted silently, with a low chuckle. Basic needs drew Han's attention to the nearby table overcome by sudden thirst, his mouth unbearably dry. Han gingerly sat up, turning towards the glass of water beckoning on the nearby nightstand. The movement caused his head to throb with a dull ache as his gulped the water down, the coolness of the liquid a relief to his parched throat. Heavy breathing caught his attention next, eyes widening in amusement as he observed Chewbacca on the floor, sacked-out and snoring with a half-open mouth. "Guess I'm even more popular than I thought," he joke sarcsticall, smirking down at his co-pilot. "Glad to see so many people concerned about my well-being." Han knew the Wookiee was most likely there because of his concern and indisputable loyal friendship. What he didn't know was that Chewbacca preferred to be nearby because he had also been concerned for Leia's safety. She had stubbornly insisted on staying with Han, so Chewie insisted on staying with both of them.

Taking a deep breath, running a hand over his scratchy, needing-to-be-shaved face, Han attempted to gather his bearings. How long had he been sick? They were obviously still in-flight….how much further until they reached Corellia? Dozens of other technical problems and systems checks began to run through his mind.

His thoughts returned to the Princess, probably anxious to send an encrypted message to the Rebel Alliance as to their status and whereabouts. Rolling over on his side and propping himself up on an elbow to study Leia, he brooded over their past conversation which was interrupted just before he had become ill. What did the Rebel cronies want from her, he wondered with suspicion, given the fact that whatever it was had brought the typically cool and controlled princess to tears. _ Hell, maybe she won't want to contact them -_ his foggy mind entertaining far-fetched fantasies of them leaving all of the death and destruction behind, disappearing in the Outer Rim territory. They could assume different identities - he had plenty of connections that could assist with that… they could create a new life, together_….she_ _did say she'd stay with me forever_, his dry, cracked lips curling upwards at the recollection.

Han realized his request last night, declared while practically smothering her tiny form in his bed, had not been exactly the most romantic or direct way of admitting his feelings for the Princess, but her emotional response - that she would always be 'his girl' told him what he needed to know, at least for the time being. The realist in Han returned with a disappointed sigh; Leia would never abandon the Alliance, remorsefully pushing down a possessive desire to steal her away from all the potential dangers swirling around her, reluctantly realizing that cloak and dagger politics, her dedication to the Rebellion were parts of her identity, and he was enamored with every facet of this complex, incredible woman.

Sliding over to Leia's form, his eye's enjoyed the sight of her alluring, petite frame, placing a palm on the tempting curve of her hip, running his fingers down to her tiny waist, his large hand migrating to the flat plane of her stomach. He pulled her gently towards his chest and away from the edge of the cot, whispering without any reservation into her ear, "I could get used to this – waking up with you in my bed…", a hint of teasing in his voice as he planted a tiny kiss to her inviting earlobe.

She instinctively sighed at the sensation of the warmth of his breath and seductive lips, turning to face him, still half-asleep. Leia startled as she awoke with an apprehensive look forming in her big brown eyes, her body rigid. "Han..?" her voice tentative as she searched Han's face, her body visibly relaxing as he drawled her name.

"Leia, sweetheart…", a familiar lopsided grin from the Corellian tempting Leia to pull him into an embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck with a tiny squeal of joy.

"You're back!" she cried into his neck, breathing a sigh of relief, stifling an embarrassing sob. He felt a rush of excitement course through his veins, delighting in the Princesses enthusiastic response, chiding with a grin into her hair, "I didn't realize I left, Leia…", adding with a whisper, "I'd never leave such a beautiful nurse; thanks for putting up with me…", the irony of his comment not lost on the Princess. His hands moved to cradle Leia's face, intent on a sensual kiss. His demeanor changed as he blinked in shock at the unexpected sight; her beautiful face was bruised, a reddish-purple shadow on her puffy cheek and a small gash on her swollen upper lip.

Han's mouth dropped open in shock, Leia swiftly overlooking his dumbfounded appearance, declaring with relief "Your fever has finally broken; I can feel it!", somehow innately knowing without the assistance of the thermo-scanner that at last, he was out of serious danger. She stroked Han's stubbly jaw, her eyes shining with grateful tears as she smiled up at him. A cautious growl echoed behind Han that grew into whoops of joy as the Wookie grabbed and squeezed him hard, Han chuckling with an "umph" at his friends' tight hug. "Easy, Chewie, I don't need to add cracked ribs to my recovery plan…", beaming affectionately at his co-pilot and returning a gracious slap to the Wookiee on his hairy back.

Han's eyes returned to Leia's lithe form, flitting about the room, gathering fresh bandages, refilling his water glass, a myriad of other frantic activities, avoiding eye contact with him. Yawning and stretching his sore back muscles with a groan, he moved towards the Princess, gently grabbing her forearm to win back her attention, "Sweetheart what happened to you?," concern filling his voice. The Princess was not ready for this conversation, almost imperceptibly exchanging a nervous glance with Chewbacca, who promptly excused himself from the Captain's quarters with some vague excuse.

Concern knitted Han's brow as he ran a long finger over her swollen cheek, waiting for her response. Leia had not seen her reflection in a mirror yet, but could sense the faint throbbing of her cheek and her sore, swollen upper lip.

"Oh,….It was late last evening, when I walked into the galley bulkhead, half-asleep…I haven't been getting much rest lately…", she stammered with a fake grin, turning away from his questioning gaze, taking a sip of water and now facing away from Han's dubious stare she attempted to tug the collar of her robe up higher up her neck.

His pulse started to pound loudly in his ears as he slowly digested her trite explanation, his heart beating from a rush of nervous adrenaline. He recalled bitterly the similar reaction, the strange excuses his mother would make…some supposedly self-inflicted 'accident' that caused her a blackened eye, the bruises on her arms and face, a torn dress…

"Captain Solo! Chewbacca informed me of the wonderful news – it so good to see you fully functional again!" C3PO twittered enthusiastically as he clamored into the room, carrying a try of breakfast foods and juices, depositing them on the dresser before continuing, "It was quite disconcerting, if I may say so, to see you delusional at times, behaving in a downright nasty manner…" a mechanical shiver added for dramatic emphasis in the protocol droids' voice.

"Thank you 3PO", the Princess cut off the droid curtly, annoyed at his uninhibited honesty, her cheeks reddening at her own flustered response, "Captain Solo needs to rest and continue his recovery; I think it might be best if you let me dress his wounds in private…"

"I appreciate the food, Goldenrod," Han sheepishly offered, " but I'd like to spend some time with the Princess _alone…" _his arm directing the droid towards the door as C3PO complained ruefully, "after all, I'm only trying to help…", abruptly shuffled out by Han as he palmed the door shut.

She was busily fixing a plate of breakfast breads and cheese for him, pouring a tall glass of ortoro juice with far more concentration than necessary. Han sat slowly on his mattress, stunned, as if he had been sucker-punched, reeling from the change in circumstances. A sickening feeling spread through his stomach and chest, not in the least related to the infection he had been battling for the last few days.

It was with a gentle but serious tone Han addressed her, like an experienced father recognizing the tell-tale signs of dishonesty in a daughter or son, carefully attempting to pull the truth from a fibbing child.

"Leia, c'mere…I want to get a closer look at you…", his voice pleading as he stretched out his hand to grasp her fingers, tugging her closer. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, glancing at him sideways, struggling against the desire to hastily plop his plate of food before him and rush out of the cabin to escape the emotional storm growing inside her.

The Princess regrouped, slipping into senatorial mode as she handed him his plate, chiding "it's vital for your recovery, Han, that you consume nutrient-rich foods and drink plenty of liquids…"adding with authority, "I need to examine the lacerations to determine how effective the bacta has been. Once we arrive on Corellia, its likely we'll have to acquire a higher strength bacta for continued regeneration of tissue…", grabbing the necessary medical supplies from the nearest table and sitting behind him on the cot, effectively ignoring his request.

Gulping the sweet juice down, his mind swirled around the possible scenarios responsible for Leia's battered condition, circling back to the unthinkable. The mounting tension in his shoulder blades grew until she began cleansing the partially healed wounds on the side of his torso, the Captain exhaling with relief at the sensation of her hands washing his flesh with a tender touch. They sat in complete silence, Leia's soft, warm breath tickling his skin, Han's thoughts and body quickly reacting to her closeness and touch. He chastised himself silently, twisting back towards the Princess as his large hand circled her wrist gently, building up the courage to press her again.

"Sweetheart…you aren't exactly the 'clumsy' type; it's kinda hard to believe you ran into a wall….", raising a skeptical eyebrow at the Princess.

"It was dark, and I was tired…" she volleyed back, embarrassed at her weak explanation. It was so much more comfortable to bury the memories from the prior night and instead focus on the task at hand.

He was facing her, the two of them sitting on the messy bed, both unusually quiet. She lowered her gaze as he tentatively placed the tip of a finger ever-so-softly on her swollen lip, then stroked her bruised cheek. A large palm directed her chin upwards, forcing Leia to meet his burning eyes. "Princess, don't lie to me," his voice uncharacteristically faltering as his eyes bored into her, "It was _me_, wasn't it…,"an undercurrent of anger in his shaking voice as he stroked her battered cheek, fingers barely ghosting over her split lip again.

The Princess gazed at Han's ashen face, her brown eyes poorly disguising the trepidation growing in her as his hand slowly touched the collar of the silky robe, exposing her skin to his perusal.

She blinked back tears at his pained expression and the memory of his lust-driven behavior, shivering as he slid the robe down her arms, pooling on the sheets. As his eyes studied her typically perfect, porcelain-like skin, his heart began to race as his composure slowly crumbled. Leia was now marked with reddish-purple blotches, covering her neck and down towards the swell of her breasts. Tiny droplets of dried blood stained the silky nightgown, accusing him silently.

Han's face contorted in agony at the shameful sight and his insides twisted in knots, gaping at the marks his mouth had left on her delicate skin, the torn robe and stretched- out nightgown. Did some merciless beast hidden inside of him take her body? _I've never hit a woman, never forced myself upon…,_ unable to complete the sentence, even in his thoughts. He found it difficult to form a coherent sentence, finally strangling out a few words "What happened? – I don't remember anything…"rubbing his hands over his stormy hazel eyes, desperation creeping into his baritone voice, "gods Leia, did I…?"

Shaking her head he wiped away a few tears that trickled down her reddened cheeks, the events of the previous night vividly flashing before her minds' eye. "No….I had the injectable in my hand and you assumed I was a bounty hunter, planning to seduce and capture or kill you." It was unnecessary for Leia to verbalize what that crazed man's intentions were, the torn robe and nightgown also evidence of his ultimate goal.

Han squeezed his eye's closed, lowering his head to his hands as she continued, standing up an turning away from him. "You had me pressed up against the bulkhead; I tried to get away… we struggled," subconsciously touching her cheek. After a sharp intact of air, she whispered , "I ended up on the bed; you pushed me down, and…I begged you to stop. I'm not sure why, but you hesitated, and that's when Chewbacca entered the cabin and knocked you to the floor; I suppose he heard my cries…", her voice sounding impossibly small.

Leia was unable to contain the flood of tears any longer, wrapping her arms around her trembling form, weeping silently.

Han clenched his fists tightly, grinding his teeth at the realization of the physical and emotional misery he had caused the Princess. Anguished, his breathing raw and ragged as he felt overcome with remorse for the sordid behavior he ironically couldn't recall. Unsteadily approaching Leia from behind, Han placed his hands on her trembling shoulders, impulsively wrapping his long arms around her and pleading into her hair, "oh gods Leia, forgive me _please_, it wasn't me…I'd never hurt you, never…"

The sensation of his muscled body engulfing her tiny frame caused Leia to tense subconsciously, uneasiness creeping into her mind. "But it _was_ you…",she cried sadly, a tempest of emotions buffeting her as she pushed out of his embrace and rushed from the cabin.


	9. Chapter 9

_A HUGE thank you goes to Dark Leia, who has graciously accepted my request to beta-read this story. Her guidance and suggestions are incredible! Kudos to her for helping me with the previous chapter as well!_

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After a much-needed shave and shower the captain of the Millennium Falcon emerged from his cabin and wandered anxiously through the circular corridor. Unable to find the elusive Princess anywhere on his ship, having checked all of her usual hiding spots, Han returned to stop in front of the crews' quarters. He leaned his ear closer, listening for any signs of activity.

Inhaling deeply in the vain attempt to calm himself, he gently tapped the durasteel portal, "Leia? You in there…?" Rubbing a hand across the back of his stiff neck. _Where else could you be sweetheart; I've combed the Falcon looking for you, like some kriffin' stalker. _

There were so many things Han wanted, _needed,_ to say to Leia - all of his sincere, well-prepared apologies seeming woefully inadequate to him now. He shifted from one scuffed boot to another, nervousness and shame getting the best of him as he crammed his sweaty hands into pant pockets.

"Kreth!" he grumbled as frustration seeped into his brain. Han was not accustomed to openly expressing his feelings to begin with, and this miserable self-inflicted situation was worse than anything he could remember. Knocking again his shoulders slumped after a few moments, realizing that either she was asleep or ignoring him. In any case, the end result left him pacing and tortured.

After whispering a few choice Corellian swear words out of pure frustration, Han sullenly strode towards the cockpit, a place that would provide a comfortable familiarity he needed...

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Leia waited for the echo of his heavy steps to fade away before carefully peeking around the edge of the portal and stealthily sneaking towards the 'fresher. She didn't bother glancing at her reflection in the small mirror, stripping everything off and exhaling in relief as she entered the shower. The hot water enveloped her from head to toe, sighing at the cleansing, comforting stream.

_Thank the Maker he's finally better! I'm just so…tired…I needed this…now I can face him again_. Convincing herself that was the reason for the nervous flutter thumping in her stomach. Leia surmised her hasty departure from Han's quarters earlier had been mainly due to sleep deprivation and the rollercoaster of emotions of the past few days. Perhaps what happened was not as bad as it seemed…

With a large towel, Leia methodically dried her still moist skin off, finally catching a glimpse of herself in the looking-glass. Her eyes widened at the sight of her bruised appearance, a tiny hand reaching up to gingerly touch her sore cheekbone, now colored shades of reddish- purple. The stark reality of Han's brutal treatment washed over her again as she stared at the still-swollen upper lip, stinging as the cool air nipped at the healing wound. The Princesses hand travelled down her neck and the valley between her breasts, covering the marks left by Han's punishing mouth, taking a sharp breath at the painful memory.

Turning away from her reflection while tugging a t-shirt and pair of leggings on she eyed the torn, stained nightgown and robe pooled on the 'fresher floor. The Princess roughly snatched the garments, shoving them into the nearest disposal container with a huff, _"Dammit Han, how could you do this to me!"_ a mix of dismay, betrayal and anger assaulting her.

She swallowed back tears, recalling the stunned, dumbfounded appearance covering Han's face when she had finally revealed the sordid details of his delusional behavior.

_I'm so furious; but at who? Han doesn't remember anything; it was the Tetanexus that caused this, not him…_

Doubts about Han began creeping into her thoughts - she really knew very little about the dark-haired Corellian's past other than the little tidbits he would sometimes divulge. Han had unintentionally revealed his father's abusive treatment before the Tetanexus took its toll on his body and mind.

_But Han had been so sweet and tender…_she could almost hear his soft words and touch as he wrapped himselfaround herthat fateful night_…before…_

_Before he attacked me…_

Leia's confused mind was spinning in a thousand different directions, inundated with conflicting emotions -happiness, affection, love, sadness, hurt, fear, anger.

_Will Han be destined to slip into the same behavior he lived with all those years while growing up? No – I'm not being fair - he's never done anything like that to me; even Chewie said he had never seen Han hit a woman before…_

Confusion reigned supreme in Leia's heart and mind, finally chastising herself, "Enough of this! I've got to think about something else." The Senator from Alderaan retreated into her protective shell and started regrouping, burying herself in a datapad of military strategies and possible political intrigue; of analyzing potential munitions suppliers and covert recruiting plans...

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The Captain punched the control panel on the communications system with a heavy fist, frustrated at the disagreeable circuitry, finally slamming a tool back into it's charger unit. Striding towards the galley, Han threw open the cold-unit with an annoyed grunt and grabbed an ale.

*It's a little early for that, don't you think? Plus you're still recovering, Cub…*, Chewbacca growled skeptically at the Captain, brushing sweet –bread crumbs off his whiskers with the back of a paw.

Glaring at the Wookiee while taking a swig, Han swallowed the golden liquid, snarling, "Gee thanks_, Mom_, for your concern, but I know what I'm doin…" He took another pull of the ale while slumping into the nearest chair, obviously irritated and on edge.

Chewbacca could sense and smell the tension radiating off of Han, instinctively knowing it was not related to the temperamental communications circuitry.

*How is the Little Princess doing?* Chewbacca grunted softly while grabbing another slice of bread.

"Hell, I don't know. She's been avoiding me like the Cartha Plague," sighing and combing long fingers through his dark hair. "I really fucked up this time," he grunted aloud, his spoken thoughts directed more to himself than his co-pilot. "Leia probably thinks I'm some heartless, woman-beating pervert…how in the hell am I ever going to earn her trust again…" his jaw tightened, then took another swig.

*She knows you were out of your mind; it wasn't _you_ that…hurt her…*, the Wookiee choosing his words carefully about the incomplete puzzle, having witnessed but a few of the pieces. *The Little Princess wouldn't leave your side after…the incident. I wanted her to take care of herself but she stubbornly refused. She really cares for you, Cub.* He woofed quietly, grabbing some blue milk.

A bittersweet smile briefly crossed Han's face, then fell into a frown, "Odds are, Chewie, Leia feels 'differently' about me now." Dejected, Han finished the bitter ale with a guzzle, the drink matching his mood.

*Since when did 'the odds' ever discourage you before? Don't try to deny it, Cub. I know you have feelings for the Little Princess. I still can't figure out why humans aren't more direct with one another. Just go find her and tell her how sorry you are, how much she means to you. I know how persistent you can be, if you want to…*the tone of his co-pilot's words slightly challenging.

The ex-smuggler had many character traits - one of them being stubbornly determined, once his mind had been set upon a particular course, no matter the risks. He'd figure out a way, somehow, to win back Leia's favor.

Standing up from the worn chair, Han's long legs carried him purposefully towards the crew quarters.


	10. Chapter 10

The insistent tap on the door accompanied by Han's deep voice drew the Princess' attention away from her data pad and back to the dark-haired Corellian she had purposefully driven from her thoughts.

"Leia, we need to talk – I want to update you on our arrival to Corellia and also go over some possible repair assignments." He winced to himself. _Pretty lame excuses. Damn, must be losing my edge_… Han fidgeted as he stared at the dingy door, waiting for a reply and hoping the famous Solo-luck would provide him access to his hearts' desire on the opposite side of the portal. Struggling to retain his composure, his fingers itched to override the lock and palm the door open himself if he had to wait much longer.

Thankfully the portal hissed open, Han taking a sharp intake of air as he stepped slowly into the chamber. His eyes darted anxiously around, settling upon Leia's beautiful face, her cheek still bruised a reddish-purple shade, her split lip still slightly swollen and attempting to heal. The captain felt a wave of shame creep up his spine, his jaw twitching as she shifted uncomfortably under his unwavering stare.

"Are you alright Princess?" his soft Corellian drawl swirling in her ears as she returned his gaze. Han was immediately overcome with the desire to wrap his arms around Leia's tiny frame and bury his nose in her silky hair, anxious to beg forgiveness… _Control yourself for gods' sake - be thankful she let you in the cabin but don't push your luck…at least not yet…_

The Princess observed he had showered and shaved, Han's appearance returning to the familiar attractive scoundrel she knew. His tall, muscled frame moved carefully towards Leia as the intense expression shifted on his handsome face between concern and something else… a determined gaze that caused her cheeks to flush pink and her stomach to flutter with nervousness.

_I don't have time for this_. _I've got a Rebellion to run, people are depending on me - no matter what crazy, archaic schemes Mom Mothma and General Dodonna are trying to devise…_

Leia clutched the data pad to her chest protectively, crossing thin arms in front of her like a shield to fend off the smooth-talking Corellian staring at her intently.

Straightening her posture, she addressed him with a flippant tone, "Yes, I'm fine. I see you've recovered nicely though I imagine we will still need to acquire a level 2 or 3 bacta once arriving to Corellia." Her detached response and attitude didn't dissuade him as Han inched closer to Leia.

He couldn't help but notice the contradiction of her cool tone and posture, at odds with the quickening of her breath and rosy flush coloring her cheeks. Unable to maintain her impassive countenance, the Princess lowered her eyes to the floor, sensing her resolve slipping away under his intense appraisal.

Raising a questioning eyebrow, he grunted softly, "You don't seem fine to me sweetheart; you've been hiding in here for hours," rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Though Han's words lacked the typical teasing and taunting she was accustomed to, Leia still bristled at the comment. "I haven't been hiding," she retorted defensively with a huff. "I've been re-assessing the Alliance's covert recruiting campaigns; I think we can make some improvements…"

He certainly wasn't going to walk into an argument about her elusive behavior or the Rebellion, nodding his head instead and adding a non-committal "Great." Brushing a few stray hairs away from her forehead, Han chanced a lopsided grin, "I gotta confession to make; I think I'm suffering from some kind of strange 'withdrawal' – a 'Lack -of -Feisty-Princess Syndrome' or something. I just _had_ to see you," with a small waggle of his eyebrows.

Leia rolled her eyes at him as her lips curled involuntarily upwards. Before she could volley a cheeky response Han interrupted, clearing his throat while pulling a crumpled tube of Bacta from his vest pocket. "And…I was worried about you; figured you should have this for your lip," he offered sheepishly while studying the label of the tube instead of her flushed face.

She smiled softly at his uncharacteristic tentativeness, finally whispering a 'thank you' while reaching for the medicine in his palm. Attempting to divert the conversation, Leia inquired hastily, "…so what repairs can I assist with - didn't you mention we'll have to special order a significant amount of parts once we arrive on your home planet?"

Han didn't relinquish the salve, instead taking the opportunity to run his index finger along the Princesses sore cheekbone, coaxing her eyes to meet his. "That can wait – first, let me help you with this," he offered, twisting the cap off the tube and waiting for her response with a boyish looking uncertainty.

The Princess felt flustered and uneasy, wondering just where this was leading. "Oh...that isn't necessary Han, I can take care of it myself," feeling her cheeks flare even hotter at his closeness and tender touch.

"Leia, you were so good to me when I was sick, I remember that much…", his voice a low rumble as he stroked the delicate skin under her chin, "please, I want to, _need_ to do this…"

As Han's calloused hand cradled her bruised cheek, Leia closed her eyes, shuddering at the feel of his finger caressing her throbbing lip. The tingling sensation of the bacta elicited a barely perceptible sigh from the Princess, quickly squeezing her damp eyes tighterto prevent any tears from escaping_. I can do this, soon he'll be finished; I won't cry in front of him_…

Han's breath was hot and moist against her temple as he leaned close and whispered fragmented words into her ear, "I'm so sorry… I …did this to you," choking on the last of his confession. He desperately wished in vain he could erase the damage his hands and mouth had inflicted on her porcelain skin and innocent heart.

The Princess found it impossible to speak as Han's lips touched every exposed bruise or incriminating mark, covering her with feather-light kisses while murmuring something impassioned in his native tongue. Her rigid body softened, the data pad falling from her grip to the floor with a loud clatter as his hands rubbed circles on her tight shoulders, fingers ghosting down her arms.

"Gods, Leia…"his desperate words thick with emotion as he suddenly wrapped strong arms around her and pulled the overwhelmed Princess into a tender embrace, Corellian terms of endearment flowing out of his lips now buried in Leia's silky hair.

She found herself melding into the warmth and comfort of his chest, losing what little resistance remained. "I…I want to hate you," she rasped softly into his worn shirt now damp from her tears. "I _should_…" her strangled words piercing him to the core as she pushed against Han and wiggled out of his arms, putting distance between them.

"Do you think just by saying you're sorry will make everything alright?", sputtering hotly with resentment. "How do I know that it won't happen again," wiping away tears with the back her hand and turning away from his pained expression.

His heart ached, both from the misery he had caused Leia and her biting, yet justifiable questions. Inhaling a ragged breath he declared, "Of course it's not enough… but dammit, Leia, I don't know what else to do!" Throwing his arms out in defeat and running a shaky hand through already tousled hair.

He turned and walked towards Leia while his mind finally digesting her last comment. "What did you mean, 'again'? Do you really think I'd beat you or take you by force _on purpose_? I'd shoot myself before doing anything like that to you…" wearing a stunned expression as his voice filled with hurt. "You _do_ believe me, don't you?", blinking sadly at the Princess, whose tiny hands now covered her tear-stained face, trembling uncontrollably.

Han Solo rarely ever questioned his own motives or behaviors, but the Princess' fear of him turning into his father poked uneasily at his conscience, and he found himself flushing in embarrassment and indignation.

Clutching Leia's elbow, he refused to let her hide her face any longer, turning her around as he rumbled in a deep voice, "What kind of heartless bastard do you think I am, Princess? I may tease and irritate the hell out of you…maybe I'm a little rough around the edges," jabbing a thumb into his chest and harshly exclaiming, "but I'm no woman-beater whose gonna force myself on you," he sputtered with frustration seeping into his raised voice. "That was my 'old man's style, not mine!"

Leia wiped at the tears still stinging her eyes while glancing at Han. He looked uncharacteristically frazzled and unsure of himself, his hands fisted and smashed into the pockets of his bloodstripes. As his breathing slowed he removed any defensiveness from his tone, "Princess, when I was sick you begged me not to give up - to fight for you." Without thinking Han reached for her tiny hand, "Do you remember what I asked when you were wrapped around me in my cot?" Having regained some composure his voice was steady and deep, almost hypnotic to the Princess.

Blinking back more tears, she nodded while whispering "You asked me to stay with you…" visibly effected by the memories his words evoked, gazing at him with wide red-rimmed eyes.

"I meant what I said Leia- that was no delusion." His chest constricted - would this be the last chance he'd ever get to feel her velvety skin before she drove him away forever? Impulsively, he pressed his lips to her cheek, deeply inhaling her intoxicating scent and the Alderaanian perfume she wore. Han wondered vaguely if he was imagining her soft lips touching his neck, looking down at her with adoration plainly stamped all over his face.

"Can we start over? Maybe I could interest you in some Szaro chili? I won't bother trying to win you over with Orsab soup again," giving her a hopeful, crooked grin.

Sniffling, Leia couldn't help but reward a shy smile to the Captain, his silly reference to that ill-fated event stamped in her memory…

It had seemed like a life time ago, Leia pondered. She had been withdrawn and depressed, still reeling from the loss of her family and the destruction of Alderaan almost a year ago. Stuck together on a long mission, Captain Solo had been surprisingly sympathetic, listening to her reminisce for hours about long-gone family and friends, childhood memories, homesick for something as simple as a traditional Alderaanian meal…

When he had surprised her that night with Alderannian Orsab soup, she couldn't help but laugh. That was one of the few traditional meals she absolutely hated, so much in fact her parents had often threatened it as a punishment for bad behavior.

She had thanked Han profusely anyway, as he make self-deprecating jokes and poked fun at 'picky-eating Princesses', the two sharing some left-over Szaro chili instead, recalling how Han had graciously offered the whole pot of soup to a hungry Wookiee…

He could be so infuriatingly overconfident and brash at times. Yet not now. He had searched her out – remorseful, sympathetic and sweet, in a scoundrel-ish kind of way. Offering the ex-smuggler another tiny smile, she hinted "I _am_ kind of hungry for some of your delicious chili."

Exhaling with relief and flashing his trademark lopsided grin he drawled, "That's what I like to hear, sweetheart. Your wish is my command," bowing and offering the Princess his arm to grasp, escorting her out of the crews quarters.

"Well, in that case, do you do laundry?" She quipped with a sly grin.

"Don't push your luck," he deadpanned, catching himself and bringing her to a stop. "Wait a second…what _kind_ of laundry?" His hazel eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. "You've piqued my curiosity now…"

"Oh shut up, nerf herder - just forget it," she chuckled. _Walked right into that one; I have a feeling this is going to be an interesting dinner…_

_._


	11. Chapter 11

Han Solo's wizardry at the controls of his ship were displayed once again, expertly maneuvering the Millennium Falcon through Corellia's atmosphere undetected. The Captain avoided notice of any sort, setting the landing coordinates to a familiar remote location on his home planet. The need to 'lay low' and avoid any legitimate authorities or Imperials was necessary from time to time in his previously shady and often dangerous line of work.

The Captain's and co-pilot's hands effortlessly glided over a myriad of switches and buttons initiating the landing protocols, descending quickly to the surface of the planet. Looking over his shoulder with a grin Han crowed at the subdued young lady behind him. "Welcome to Corellia, Princess – a wild, overpopulated and unrestrained sort of planet. You ever been here before, Sweetheart?" His attention drawn back to the visual on the other side of the cockpit windows.

Straining to see around the tall Corellian and his hairy co-pilot who were obstructing her view, Leia unhooked her crash-netting and stood to peruse their surroundings.

"One time, a few months after I had been elected to the Imperial Senate." Her voice was soft and reflective as she reminisced "My father and a few representatives from Alderaan met with the Ambassador to Ivanadov," her mind wandering back to images of her father- her _papi. _How wonderfully reassuring he had been on that first official trip for her as a senator for their native planet. It seemed like a life time ago…

Han's deep and mildly teasing voice brought Leia out of her reverie. "I hate to disappoint you, but we aren't going anywhere near that swanky cosmopolitan center of culture. Let's just say this is much more of a 'rural' location. The nearest large city is Pragada which is a good 1 ½ to 2 hours by hovercart, at least." Speaking with an air of relieved confidence he added, "We'll be safe here. Close enough to get to the city for anything we might need, but far enough away to avoid any pain -in-the-ass busy-bodies or innocent bystanders." Chewbacca grunting in obvious agreement with his seasoned partner.

The Princess tracked his hazel eyes, which were wide open and fixated on the surroundings outside the cockpit. Even the limited view through the scratched and smudged windows was impressive. Mature, tall trees from a plethora of genuses formed a natural canopy over a multitude of shrubs and long-fronded grasses that beckoned in a soft breeze. The sky was a wonderful azure blue with a few scattered clouds floating high above.

Standing and leaning slightly forward between Han and Chewbacca, Leia studied the surroundings appreciatively. "Well, _wherever_ you've taken us, Hot Shot, even from this vantage it looks beautiful." An appreciative smile growing on her lovely face.

Focused on the picturesque surroundings, the Princess flinched unexpectedly at Han's large hand coming to rest on the small of her back. Gently nudging her forward and closer to him he coaxed "Look over here…you can just see the clearing between the forest towards the lake."

Nodding, she continued peering out at the view with a growing flush on her cheeks, unsure if his intentions were legitimate or if the charlatan in him was taking advantage of the situation. She could see from the corner of her eye he was sporting a silly grin. Han didn't bother removing his hand from her until C3PO piped up from the rear of the cockpit.

"Captain Solo, are you certain that this remote area is safe? Perhaps the surrounding wildlife will pose a threat to us, and if we encounter any local inhabitants they might be hostile to unfamiliar intruders. They may possibly become violent," The golden droid nervously chirped.

Turning and shaking his head, Han couldn't disguise the exasperation in his voice. "Relax, Goldenrod. Don't worry yourself into short-circuiting over wildlife - that's what blasters and crossbows are for." He added sarcastically, "And the last time I checked, Corellians aren't cannibals. We'll be OK. I know this area like the back of my hand - there ain't anybody around here but us." The captain still plainly annoyed by the skittish droid. "Now, when we go into Pragada for supplies, that's another story. I'll make sure we blend in with the locals. Everything will be fine."

To the reserved and cautious Princess, Han's overconfidence at times bordered on recklessness. She commented with a raised eyebrow, "You're certainly confident of our anonymity and safety here. Let me guess - you've utilized this hiding place before. Perhaps a business venture gone sour?" She challenged with a tiny smirk.

Chewbacca issued a lengthy rumble which sounded suspiciously like a concerned warning, punctuated with a few furry jabs added for emphasis in Han's direction.

Shooting the Wookiee a dirty scowl he responded hotly, "Of course I _double checked_, you overgrown fuzzball."

Chewbacca's comment caused C3PO to chatter a nervous 'Oh dear' while stumbling out of the cockpit muttering "impossible man". The irritating protocol droid and a wary glance from a young Princess causing Han's blood pressure to increase.

Giving the Princess his best wide-eyed look he innocently offered, "What?" He was in no mood to discuss past smuggling 'adventures'; some things were better left unsaid, he mused.

Her frustration at Han's silence left Leia tapping a foot lightly on the floor. Leia jutted out her chin at Han and with a slight tilt of her head she inquired tersely, "Well…?" Hoping for an explanation in regards to Chewbacca's cryptic behavior.

Staring at the Princess, he was unshaken by her cool appraisal and mild interrogation, finally teasing her with a smooth drawl. "A smuggler can't reveal secrets. It ruins his credibility and 'reputation'.

The Princess looked back and forth between the Captain and co-pilot as she sighed with mild disgust. "I've got to learn Shyriiwook,"annoyed at the smug grin now painting Han's lips. It would be fruitless to press C3PO for a translation – in the past Han had threatened the droid to melt him down for scrap if he ever translated a conversation between him and Chewbacca without permission.

_How can he get under my skin so easily_, _the scoundrel_. Biting a lip her eyes narrowed as she studied his sharp profile_. Well_, _he wasn't_ _a cad_ _last night_, she reminded herself.

Han had been a gentleman during their shared meal, charming and witty throughout the evening. It was obvious he had made heroic attempts to avoid any of his typical innuendos or teasing, instead focusing on safe and humorous conversation topics. He had caught her off-guard later, kneeling on one knee and earnestly asking for forgiveness again with hazel eyes wide and hopeful. It was mildly alarming to Leia how his physical presence, a velvety-smooth comment or a heated gaze from Han could wield so much power over her. How could she _not_ forgive him?

And yet, concerns about his mysterious past, and what was the motivation to keep so much of it hidden gnawed at her tenuous trust in him. Leia felt compelled to understand the past that shaped Han into the man she knew. It was a sobering reality for the Princess. The dynamic between them had changed since his delusional attack and her previous unshakeable reliance in Han was under scrutiny now.

The Captain's baritone voice interrupted the Princess' thoughts. "You ready to get outta here and get a closer view of our 'little slice of Heaven'? Wait 'til you see the lake," he rumbled unable to hide the anticipation from his voice.

His boyish excitement was something Leia had never seen before in the typically blasé Captain. Returning a tiny grin and with a resigned sigh of defeat she decided to give up solving the mystery of Han Solo, at least for the moment. Leia enthusiastically agreed, "I can't wait, Flyboy, let's go!"

Chewbacca had already made his way down the ramp, the opportunity to breathe fresh, non re-circulated air enticing the Wookiee as well as the rest of the crew who suffering from cabin-fever.

The rush of a warm, moist air greeted them before even setting foot on the carpet of grass at the edge of the ramp. The comforting, earthy scent of wildflowers and evergreen pleasantly assaulted their nostrils as a symphony of insects and chattering birds welcomed the weary off-worlders.

Han stripped his vest off, tossing it carelessly on the descended ramp as his long strides carried him southward through taller grasses. He extended an arm, pointing through a slight clearing in the forest just before him. "That lake beyond those evergreens is crystal clear, plus there's an incredible waterfall on the southwest side. Lots of flora and fauna around here, too. You ever ate Jelenie deer Sweetheart? It's fantastic." The typically jaded star jockey's enthusiasm was endearing, causing Leia's grin to widen as he returned to her side, an expression of reverie and pride pouring out of him.

The Princess had to admit the surrounding area was inviting and a delight to the senses. "Han, this is absolutely beautiful country. I hope we can do some exploring if we have the time." Her young face flushed from the warm breeze and his contagious excitement.

"We'll _make_ the time, sweetheart" he shot back with a huge, lopsided grin.

"You were right; I'm glad you convinced us coming here was the best option."

He stared, wide-eyed at her happy countenance, throwing a glance at the nearby droid, "3PO, mark the date and standard time."

"Certainly Captain- I'll update the Millennium Falcon's logs as soon as I return to the ship," but Han cut him off with a low chuckle.

"Hell no; I'm not concerned about the ships logs - this is a day I want to remember. The Princess actually agreed with me!" A look of astonishment still on his smiling face. He feigned light-headedness, fluttering his eyes and swaying his tall form as if he might pass-out.

Looking up through dark lashes at his silliness, Leia stifled a laugh while chiding, "You do have your moments. Not many of them, but you do have them."

Han needed no further encouragement, instantly taking her hand in his and pulling her playfully towards him. His eyes sparkled with mischief and his already low voice dropped to a deeper growl. "This area is gorgeous to be sure - but remember it's also untamed, unpredictable and wild." He placed a soft kiss on her temple while playing with some of the stray hairs that had escaped her long plait.

The Princess gazed up at his handsome face, captivated by his rugged appearance and the feel of his large hand enveloping hers. Han's words repeated in her mind - _gorgeous, untamed…wild - just like him. _The summer wind messing up his already unruly hair, further tempting Leia to reach up on tippy toes and run her hands through his thick mop.

Chewbacca interrupted the couple, letting lose with a stream of growls and complaining barks as he panted lightly, the sun continuing to beat down upon his hairy form.

Glancing between the Princess and a quickly overheating Wookiee, Han piped up "Its summertime on this hemisphere of Corellia so by the afternoon it can be sweltering." Gently slapping the Wookiee on his furry back, Han offered sympathetically, "I feel for you buddy." Scratching his chin he suggested "I could shave you. You might look a little funny Chewie, but at least you'll be more comfortable."

Chewbacca was not amused with Han's suggestion, growling a curt reply with fangs bared.

The Corellian shrugged, "Then go jump in the lake. _No_, I'm not being a smart-ass. You know how to swim and it'll feel good. What, are you afraid of messing up your hair?" He chuckled good naturedly at the Wookiee. "Hell, I'd go for a swim myself, but I gotta get the hovercart ready and 'haul ass to Pragada. I want to be back while there's still daylight." Turning back to head up the Falcon's ramp the Captain begrudgingly summoned the skittish droid, "C'mon Goldenrod, I could use your 'assistance'."

"Oh heavens…" the droid shuffled towards the Captain and anxiously inquired "Will I be venturing into Pragada with you, sir?" his electronic voice blatantly filled with dread.

"That isn't necessary 3PO," the Princess interjected as she followed them up the ramp. "I'll go with Captain Solo. We still don't have the technical parts list completed, and that has to be verified before we place any special orders. I'm correct, aren't I, Captain?"

He nodded with a slight frown at the Princess. He recognized this official tone, guessing her intentions and where her dissertation was leading. "This is mainly a necessity run for medical supplies, food and clothing." Re-focusing on Han she continued, "When do we leave? I have a list of items to get."

Han shook his head, declaring "Not _we_, Sweetheart. _You're_ staying here with Chewbacca. I'm taking 3PO. That's final." His arms were crossed in front of him as he leaned casually against the bulkhead wall with a determined expression. Before Leia could protest he cut her off sharply, "Forget it, your Worship. Until we pick up some traditional Corellian clothing for you you're staying put. If you prance into town with your current outfit you'll stick out like a sore thumb." He looked her up and down with a critical eye. Han couldn't help himself. He was motivated by protectiveness - it was safer for Leia to stay at the hidden camp.

Han surprised Leia by placing a finger gently on her lips. "Shhh. It's safer for you, OK?" He admitted quietly, hoping his concern for her would pacify the headstrong Princess at least a little bit. "So humor me, for once Sweetheart and just gimme your list. I'll pick it up whatever you need."

Han's quiet tenderness and concern for her safety momentarily abated her temper. Soon she quickly responded, "I'll give my list to C3PO, thank you," flustered she turned from him. There was _no way_ she would let him set eyes on a list that included undergarments, make-up and menstrual pads.

He was perturbed, for some reason, feeling disappointed that she would rely on C3PO instead of him. "Fine by me." He grunted back at the Princess. "I'll get you some Corellian dresses for you and you'll need to be 'enlightened' on Corellian culture as well."

Leia could almost hear the smug grin forming on his lips. She turning around slowly to observe him sizing her up with a challenging glint in his eyes and cheek muscles losing the battle to keep his face straight_. He's planning something..._

Standing regally with haughtiness seeping into her tone, "You _do_ recall Han, that since I was a member of the galactic senate I have knowledge of most planetary cultures and customs. So don't bother suggesting immodest or inappropriate outfits." Her deep brown eyes starting to flare as she stared at him skeptically.

Han chuckled, appraising her._ This is what's been missing_, Han pondered as he studied her flushed face and heated stare. Leia had been unusually quiet and reserved in conversation since their tentative reconciliation. He was no fool, bitterly recognizing her subdued and kind but guarded reactions as the fruit of his own abusive behavior. Sure, the Princess _said_ she forgave him, but saying the words and actually taking them to heart are two different things. Leia's passive demeanor left him unnerved and off-balance.

"Princess, I'm shocked. Shocked at your insinuation – to think I would even entertain the thought of such things", spoken with his best mock affronted voice followed by a sharp grin. _Huh; she wasn't too far off the mark…_

She rolled her eyes at him, ready to level a carefully honed retort when Han cleared his throat and started with a smirk, "Since you've done your _homework_, I guess it's no surprise to you that Corellian women in this region wear traditional dresses and skirts, nothing above the knee. Your modesty will be upheld, Princess." He continued in a serious tone but his eyes betrayed him. "Girls over 18 cover their hair with sheer veils in public places symbolizing their purity," he said with emphasis on the last word, pausing to enjoy the rosy flush appearing on her cheeks. He added with a wide grin, "The veils are certainly appropriate for you as well. It's also not acceptable for a womantogo out without a male chaperone." Puffing his chest out proudly. _This should get her going_, he mused.

Though Corellian culturewas a very traditional society_, _women were considered equals. However, there were some different expectations for each sex and some he agreed with, some he didn't. Still, it was fun to see her reaction.

Leia's breath was coming in shallow spurts, annoyed at his blatant enjoyment of pushing her buttons again for the umpteenth time. Without missing a beat she replied innocently, "If I'm not mistaken, Captain, the veil also symbolizes that a woman is not yet married or spoken for. Of course, she could be out in public with a relative; perhaps a _much older_ brother or cousin." Providing him with a demure smile and turning the tables on the cock-sure scoundrel, looking him up and down with a raised eyebrow.

Rankled at the pot-shot she took at his _maturity_ he opened his mouth to protest but recovered swiftly. "That's possible… except Corellian men typically choose much younger women to marry." Taking a few steps closer and walling his brows at her, he drawled in a deep tone, "It has its advantages, Sweetheart."

"At least this explains where your chauvinistic, pig-headed views originated. However, I'm not sure what excuse you have for the cause of your inflated ego and swaggering and boasting, Flyboy."

Looking at her with feigned innocence he raised his eyebrows and lifted his hands up at his sides in surrender. "Hey, Your Worship, I'm just trying to enlighten you about my culture. We've got to play the part when we're here. If you behave like your usual bossy self, barking out orders and chewing my ass out, the locals will _know_ you're an off-worlder and it'll garner unwanted attention. Corellian ladies are expected to be more, shall we say, _reserved_ in public."

"Am I expected to walk 10 steps behind you, as well?" she sputtered sarcastically.

His teasing ceased abruptly and he sighed, shaking his head. "Of course not. Look, Corellians, both men and women, are a fiery-tempered people. But it's mainly a patriarchal society. Sorry, Sweetheart, if we're in town you'll have to play along." He offered consolingly, "If it makes you feel better a woman can rail on her husband - argue and fight all she wants with her 'lesser half' in the privacy of their own home."

"I suppose that's a small consolation. I'll be sure to vent if necessary," she snapped back, turning away from Han.

His demeanor softened further, "Look, it's not a perfect society, but what is? A Corellian man is expected to love, honor and respect his wife and if necessary sacrifice his life for hers. "

Swallowing tightly, he softly responded "I guess I am a traditionalist too…"


	12. Chapter 12

The Princess has spent the previous night tossing and turning, her restless sleep interrupted by thoughts of one highly irritating Corellian who successfully offended and intrigued her during his 'lesson' on Corellian culture. Han could be so infuriatingly …_himself_, she concluded, and yet still surprise her with some endearing act or phrase.

Leia's mouth curled upwards remembering his behavior earlier. She had awoken to the sound of a male voice serenading her just on the other side of the door. He was slightly off-key, yet confidently belting -out the song, nonetheless. After a firm knock on the portal, the deep voice faded away as she opened the door and peeked out into the empty corridor. A large tray overflowing with fresh berries, baked sweetbread, tlela eggs, fried bacon and an unfamiliar fruit juice were laying before her feet. Along with the feast was a note, 'Corellians aren't afraid to sing or cook for their women.' _That man_, she thought with a grin. _Only he can push my buttons one moment and tempt me to_ _throw myself in his arms the next!_

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The sounds of tapping and buzzing mixed with swear words could be heard outside her closed door, ensuring that the Captain was still in the midst of repairing one of the many broken or malfunctioning systems of his beloved ship.

The Princess pulled the nearest dress over her dried and intricately braided hair, shimmying the material down her slim waist. The pale rose-pink material covered with a pattern of miniscule white flowers settled over her hips and billowed down to her knees. She puffed a breath of air to move a few stray hairs from her forehead while deft fingers laced the ribbons up cinching the front of the smocked dress.

With the bodice sufficiently tightened, Leia studied her reflection in the dingy mirror. It was an especially feminine and girlish dress, but not silly. It surprised her how pleasing it was to wear something not all that atypical from what she would wear on her own home planet. The Princess swallowed the growing lump in her throat … _ if_ Alderaan had still existed… _if_ the Empire had not been so cruel and unjust…_if_ the war had not come…

"In my humble opinion, Mistress Leia, I think you look exceedingly lovely in that dress!" C3PO exclaimed while approaching the Princess, carefully grasping a coordinating sheer veil.

She smiled genuinely, "Thank you, 3PO, that's very kind of you." Glancing sideways with an ambivalent opinion of the veil he held up. Hesitating briefly, then rolling her eyes she huffed, "Oh, for the love of…I guess why not."

"Captain Solo explained to me how the veil is to be worn. He assumed you might need some assistance," the golden droid gingerly offered.

Sitting down on the edge of the cot she replied curtly, "How thoughtful of the Captain. I'll be sure to thank him for his concern," while reaching for the feather-light veil and placing it atop the crown of her head.

C3PO gently tugged the veil back slightly, carefully pinning the thin material to her thick braids, adding in a positive tone, "Are you satisfied with the dresses? Captain Solo hoped you would be- he certainly spent enough time selecting them."

She nodded affirmatively, then slowly turned towards the droid with a tiny, astonished grin painting her face at the droid's flippant comment and the thought of Han rummaging through racks of clothing on her behalf.

"Actually I'm surprised how pretty they all are," Leia's gaze falling upon the rather large quantity of dresses carefully laid out on the lumpy mattress along with coordinating head veils. They were mostly similar in design, short-sleeved with rounded necklines. The bodices laced together tightly with ribbons of some sort, the skirts flaring outwards from the waist and falling just below the knees. Most of the dresses had a lovely delicate pattern of flowers of some sort with contrasting bands of ribbon or lace at the edges of the skirts. The material was incredibly soft and light-weight, perfect for hot summer days; _thank the Maker_, she mused gratefully. A number of tiny, simply adorable sandal-type shoes peeked out from underneath her bed as well. The Princess couldn't remember the last time she had an occasion to wear something so frivolous and fun. Reaching down, she slipped a pair of sandals on her petite feet and uncharacteristically giggled. She twirled around lightheartedly in front of the droid. "Comfortable _and_ stylish."

C3PO emitted a mechanical sigh at her completed appearance, "Simply perfect. You are a vision of grace and beauty."

Leia blushed slightly at the droids compliment when suddenly the sound of a large thud followed by hollering and growling caught both of their attentions. _Something just got thrown at the bulkhead. Hopefully they aren't throwing things at each other,_ she grimaced at the thought_._

"Heaven only knows how long we'll be stuck hiding on this planet. This ridiculous ship requires more repairs than first anticipated,"C3PO sputtered with displeasure.

"You're not actually _surprised_ by that, are you 3PO?" she cheekily stated.

He didn't reply to her sarcastic comment, only continuing with his complaints. "I simply can't stand the computer's droids; always bickering and fighting with each other and questioning my recommendations. The injustices I have to bear, the sufferings I'm required to endure… I'm sure this will be the end of me," he declared dramatically.

The Princess tried to suppress the smile tugging at her lips when a belligerent voice boomed from down the corridor, quite audible despite the fact the door was completely closed. The Captain of the Falcon roared, "3PO, where in the hell are you? Get your golden-ass over here…NOW!"

"Oh dear! How I wish R2 were here," the flustered droid clucked nervously, reluctant to face the irritated Corellian summoning him for an unknown task.

Touching his metal forearm, Leia offered with a sympathetic gaze and a tiny smile, "I see the Captain is in one of his _better_ moods. C'mon, I'll go with you. Perhaps I can be of some help as well."


	13. Chapter 13

_I've been remiss in thanking DarkLeia for being the best beta-reader and mentor to me. In taking me on, she obviously has a tremendous amount of patience ;) A HUGE thank you to her!_

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The growing list of malfunctioning systems and desperately-needed repairs for the Falcon successfully pushed Captain Solo into a sour mood, eventually escalating him past mere frustration and into a fit of anger. Charred energy cells flew through the air, bouncing loudly off an innocent wall and tumbling to the floor in pile of shattered pieces.

After waiting for Han to complete his lengthy tirade of swear words, Chewbacca barked reproachfully at his irritated partner while detangling a mess of wires from the deflector shield's main system. *Easy, Cub. If you keep throwing things around we'll have even _more_ to repair.* Waving a hairy paw in the direction of the crumbled cells he added smartly, *Try to look at the bright side - this will give you an opportunity to practice some patience and self-control.*

"Look at the _bright side_?" Han stared incredulously at Chewbacca while rubbing his sore, work-worn fingers. In a mocking, awe-inspired tone Han began, "Thank you, _Dr. Chewbacca,_ for your philosophical and inspirational advice. I'll be sure to remain calm and collected when I find out how much all these replacement parts are gonna cost me." Dropping his fake grin, Han's brows knotted in annoyance as he scowled, "What a crock of Bantha-shit, Chewie! Where'd that come from - hanging 'round 3PO too much?" Scoffing, the cynical pirate shook his head at the Wookiee.

The Princess and C3PO approached the main hold, hearing the Captain and co-pilot bickering like an old married couple and trading barbs at lightning speed. Having overheard some of their 'philosophical discussion' and observing the continuing battle of wills, Leia couldn't help but snicker as she wondered who would get in the last word and prayed that Chewbacca wouldn't lose his patience with the surly Corellian and tear him to pieces.

Deciding that proactive intervention was a better option than having to clean up spilled blood later, Leia scolded them over the fray. "Now, now, boys. Stop this _at once_, or I'll have to send you to the principal's office!" Their heads swiveled around at her high-pitched official voice to watch a smirking Princess wag her fingers at each of them, scolding Han and Chewbacca like naughty children. Spotting a long, thin piece of plastisteel on a nearby table, she grabbed and tapped the make-believe ruler in her opposite palm in a mock- threatening fashion.

There was very little in the galaxy that rendered the seasoned pirate speechless, but seeing the Princess in a traditional Corellian dress left Han completely stunned. He was unaware of the foolish look on his awe-struck face, not that he would have cared anyway, long devoid of self-consciousness. Certainly, Han had seen her femininity displayed a few times in the past, dressed regally and befitting a girl of her royal stature. But now, as he gazed at the delightful vision before him he couldn't recall Leia looking more beautiful and irresistible; she was _glowing_, wearing that simple, flowered dress and a long, thin veil.

"Wow." Han's brain tried to catch-up with his mouth and formulate a more eloquent reply, but his libido shifted in high gear envisioning himself unlacing the bodice of Leia's dress and sliding his hands underneath to explore her soft skin and hidden curves.

The Princess could feel redness creeping up her neck towards her cheeks and spreading across her skin under Han's intense gaze. _Gods, I get the feeling he's imagining me half-naked and on top of him, pulling off the rest of my clothes! _Preoccupation with politics and the Rebellion did not allow Leia to indulge often in things typical for her age. Even dressing like a young lady was somewhat foreign to her, having grown used to mainly wearing incongruous uniforms. Growing uncomfortable under Han's dumbfounded stare, she bit her lower lip and regained some of her composure and stated loudly, "I'm not afraid to use this on you two." Lips curling up in a smirk as she waved the plastisteel strip around for dramatic effect.

The motion catching his attention, Han's eyes focused on the makeshift ruler. He put together a few words, finally forming a coherent sentence. "Is that a _promise_, Miss Organa?" He crowed enthusiastically, " 'Cause I'll do _anything_ to be the Teacher's Pet." Waggling his eyebrows suggestively at her and flashing a wicked grin.

C3PO jumped into the conversation, clucking, "I do believe that's an unwise decision, Captain Solo. It could be quite painful being struck by a plasteel band." After a few guffaws echoed from the group, the confused droid whined, "Sometimes I simply don't understand human behavior."

Switching gears, Han piped up. "Look at the _bright side_ of things, Goldenrod." Smirking, he shot a quick glance in Chewbacca's direction. "I've got a fantastic _opportunity_ for you. You're the _lucky_ droid who gets to communicate with the Falcon's hyperdrive and find out what's wrong."

He processed the Captain's words, then in a hesitant tone the golden droid responded, "Oh, well in that case…thank-you Captain Solo for this…honor." Secretly wishing R2 were there for consolation and some assistance as well.

Grinning from ear-to-ear, Han replied, "The pleasure is all mine, 3PO!" _That should keep him busy and_ _out of my hair for a while_, he thought smugly as his focus returned to the beautiful Princess. He wanted nothing more than to steal Leia away to his cabin and examine the 'authenticity' of her clothing…

"So what is the status of this bucket of bolts and how long do you think we'll have to be hiding here?" Leia quipped while fiddling with the silky edges of the veil adorning her braids. Mentally bracing herself, the Princess prepared retorts for whatever smart-aleck comment Han may unload as to her state of dress or appearance.

"Hey, just remember, your Highness, this 'bucket of bolts' has saved your Royal arse plenty of times," mildly annoyed at her jab at his battered freighter. "She just needs….a little more _reconditioning _then first expected." He frowned at Leia's questioning gaze as she studied the pile of broken energy cells and the tangled mess of wires hanging out of the deflector shields main panel.

Raising an eyebrow, she inquired, "Just _how much_ reconditioning does your _beloved_ ship need?" Judging by the way Han sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, she prepared for the worst.

Taking a deep breath Han scowled, "Kreth, where to begin with – aft repulsor lifts and the encryptor computer are still malfunctioning, a third of the power generator cells were fried, the entire hyper drive motivator is shredded," frustration building again as he ran a hand through tousled hair. "There's a lot of parts that need to be special-ordered. That's gonna delay us, plus once they finally come in, we have all the labor and installation, then double-checking systems…," drifting off sullenly, scratching his stubbly chin.

Leia groaned aloud, rubbing her temples just at the thought of all the physical labor and skill required to get the ship space-worthy again. She was a savvy politician, a leader of the Rebel Alliance and an amazing strategist, not to mention a very good shot, but mechanical repairs were not one of her strong-suits. "I'm sorry, I don't have much experience with repairing freighters. Do you have any micro-fuser work at the moment?" she inquired with a half-smile.

"No Sweetheart, but when I do, you'll be the first to know. Thanks for the offer anyway. I'll make sure the encryptor comp is up and running by tomorrow morning. You'll finally be able to send a coded message to the Fleet. At least they'll be relieved to hear from you, but I can't give them an estimate when we'll be back." He anticipated a very disappointed reply, but was taken aback by her less than enthusiastic response.

"That's alright. I'm sure they'll be fine without me for a little while longer- at least until their credits start running low again." A touch of bitterness escaping her typically positive, overwhelming fervor for the Alliance. She recognized a look of confusion on his sharp features, prompting her to pipe up before he could question her. "I'll go nuts if I just sit around twiddling my thumbs. Thank the gods you restocked the galley; I'll start prepping dinner. I just can't stomach eating another ration bar." Her tiny sandals clicking down the circular corridor towards the galley.

Intentionally stalling and slowing his gait so he could walk behind her, Han eyed the Princess' adorable wiggle as her petite legs carried her quickly to her destination. She floated around the ship's kitchen with determination, grabbing a large pot and filling it with water. After placing it on the thermo-burner she then rummaged through the root-vegetable bin. Grabbing a bunch of potmotoes, she washed and dried them effortlessly, shushing him out of the way so she could get the appropriate peeler from the storage drawers.

Han watched Leia with a bemused grin as she flitted around the galley looking for spices. It was obvious to the pirate she knew what she was doing, though he still had to inquire comically, "You can _cook_, Princess? What other hidden talents do you have?" Crossing his arms and leaning against the counter casually, he was the picture of smug self-assuredness.

The Princess just rolled her eyes at the grinning Captain, not bothering to take the bait. "Does it surprise you I'm so self-sufficient? I may not be a five star chef but I'm a pretty good cook." Waving a tiny hand in the air with mock disdain she added, "I don't suppose you have something like an apron around this hovel? I don't want to ruin my dress."

"And I gotta say, you look amazing in that dress, Sweetheart." He looked her up and down with a crooked grin, sauntering closer to the Princess. "So, do the clothes meet with your approval?" he asked, smiling wider, taking a calculated liberty and fingering the ribboned-edge of her veil.

"Yes, the dresses are lovely; all of them," she offered with a shy grin. "Thank you, for the beautiful clothes and sandals. I must admit, I was surprised to discover you picked them out yourself; they're even my favorite colors!"

_That's what I brought 3PO along for. Guess he's good for something_. Her unguarded response and wide-eyed innocence struck a chord within him as he drawled, "I'm looking forward to seeing you in all of them. You're absolutely beautiful, Princess."

Leia almost felt lightheaded at the sound of Han's smoky-velvet voice and his roguish, crooked smile. She gazed up at his incredibly handsome face, wanting to touch his cheek and run her finger along the intriguing scar marking his chin. She hesitated instead and muttered with a tiny smile, "Perhaps you could teach me how to use something other than a macro-fuser."

Han brushed the back of his fingers lightly over Leia's healed cheek and upper lip. Moving closer, he bent his tall frame lower. "I've got quite a few things I'd like to teach you, Princess," he whispered seductively near her temple, the feel of his breath hot on her flesh.

Leia felt a thrill course through her body as she turned slightly to look at his hypnotic hazel eyes, a hint of playful teasing sparkling in them. "I've got a few things to show _you_, Captain." The words rolled off her tongue as she smiled demurely up at him through thick eyelashes. _Where in the world did that come from? _She wondered silently at the sultry voice that had come out of her throat. _Well, turnaround is fair play…_

Han blinked in surprise at Leia upping the stakes by purring a flirtatious comment to him. _Am I dreaming? - It couldn't be this easy_. But the Princess hadn't pulled away from his closeness and touch, and everything about her was drawing him in like a supercharged magnet. He liked this game and wanted to play. Seduction mode back on, Han drawled suggestively, "I've got an idea what we can start with." Closing the distance between their mouths, he was intent on tasting her sweet lips when suddenly she grabbed a handful of potmatoes from the counter and thrust them into his chest, unable to control the smirk growing on her face.

"First, I'll show you how to make Alderaani Nochini. You _peel _and I'll cut them into pieces for the boiling pot." Leia's eyes danced with amusement at his shocked expression. He swallowed hard, a lesson in food-prep the furthest thing from his mind and body, still intent on something more carnally pleasing.

"Not interested in learning about cooking? How about _baking_, then?" She offered innocently through wide brown eyes as her lips curled upwards, unable to contain her smile any longer.

Han stared incredulously at Leia's taunting smile and self-satisfied expression. Picking his chin off the counter, Han regrouped quickly. Leia's uncharacteristic flirtatious behavior mixed with her dulcet laughter and challenging posture went straight to his groin as the thrill of pursuit drove him onwards. He growled playfully at her- this game was not over yet and he had every intention of winning. "Why, you little _tease_, I'll get you for this!" He lunged at the Princess, now shrieking as she successfully evaded his hands and ducked away from his grasp as she bolted for the portal.

His long legs were a distinct advantage for the tall Corellian and he caught the laughing Princess, wrapping his long arms around her from behind. "I've got you _now,_ and I'm gonna make you _pay_, Sweetheart." Han's deep voice rumbling with laughter as he rubbed his prickly chin and cheeks on hers, rubbing down towards the delicate skin of her neck as his unyielding fingers tickled her sides.

Gasping for air and laughing uncontrollably under his assault, Leia wiggled and pressed against his hard body in attempt to escape his torturous tickling, which only enflamed and aroused Han further. He turned her around to face him, then nipped at her earlobes with lips and teeth, moving to the delicate skin along her jawline. A pleasurable moan mixed with a giggle escaped Leia as she managed to free a hand from Han's grasp, her tiny fingers traveling along his lean torso.

Han twitched noticeably at the sensation of Leia's warm fingers exploring his chest then travelling southward. His arousal had weakened his plan of attack and the Princess took full advantage of it. A strangled guffaw escaped from the pirate's mouth, his attempt to stifle his laughter proved unsuccessful.

"Ah ha! He has a weakness!" Leia cried triumphantly at her discovery as nimble fingers evaded his grasping hands to torture his lower abdomen further. Han's deep laughter mixed with playful curses as he pressed Leia to the floor, pinning her down with his body weight while using strong fingers to tickle her mercilessly.

"Unfair tactics!" She repeated again and again breathlessly. Her sides and cheeks ached from laughing and her breath was coming in short spurts as his teasing hands softened their attack and settled on her waist.

"Scoundrels don't use fair tactics, baby. I _always_ win." He flashed her a roguish grin, drinking in her gorgeous smile while resting the bulk of his weight on forearms to each side of her. The Princess was splayed out on the cool floor of the galley beneath him with a relaxed carelessness he had never seen before, gazing up at him with her beautiful face aglow.

Leia's breathing calmed as she licked her lips then whispered with a challenging giggle, "_Always_?" Her brown eyes widened as she suddenly realized their bodies were tangled together in an intimate position. Her dress and thin slip were in disarray and riding up immodestly, exposing the skin of her thighs with Han's body still wedged in between. The hardness of him pressed against her soft warm skin, but she didn't try to disengage from the cocoon of his body. The trepidation she recently harbored against Han melted away as she beheld his adoring stare, returning his gaze with a receptive and innocent smile.

It struck the jaded pilot deep within his chest and burned like a seal upon his heart. He loved her. Every inch and every thing about the Princess. _She_ was his weakness.

That was the reason he could never bring himself to leave the crazy band of Rebels and pay off Jabba, despite all of the excuses and hollow threats he made to cut ties and return to his old life. He didn't want that life anymore; a life driven by greed and self-preservation. It was a little scary – having been burned in the past, he had kept himself free from any emotional ties, except for Chewbacca. But this was entirely different; Han instinctively knew - Leia was and would always be the love of his life.

"Leia," He murmured her name softly and reverently like a prayer, repeating it again as his lips lowered to press against hers.

She offered no resistance as he cradled her flushed face with large hands and pressed his mouth against hers softly. His tenderness blanketed her in an amazing feeling of safety and sensuality as his tongue parted her lips to explore her mouth further. She tentatively touched her tongue to his, stroking his jawline and cheek causing a throaty moan from him as he deepened their kiss.

Loud beeping from the thermo-range identified an overflow of boiling water, interrupting their heated kisses and caresses. "The burner - the water is boiling over..." She hoarsely whispered into his cheek, pleasantly disoriented from his taste and touch as the flood of hormones pulsing through her trembling body. Han continued lightly kissing the delicate skin beneath her ear, working towards her jawline, content to ignore the insistent beeping.

Leia finally implored with a giggle, "Han!" Wiggling underneath him, regretfully hinting it was time to untangle themselves from each other.

His mouth stopped as he mumbled into her neck. "Dammit, there's always something or someone interrupting us." Gently resting his forehead on hers, he wondered aloud, "Where's my famous Solo 'luck'?" Sighing with obvious frustration. He gently helped her up from the galley floor, placing a kiss on her hand and squeezing it lightly.

The Princess smiled at his adorable countenance while straightening her disheveled pink dress, tugging the hair veil back in place. "Well, you _won_, didn't you?" Leia offered with a shy grin as she made her way towards the thermo- burners.

He returned to her side, shooting the Princess a lopsided smile as he grabbed the peeler and went to work on the nearest potmato, suggesting in earnest, "We could have a rematch."


End file.
